


Something new to hold

by selflessbellamy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (Eventual??) Fluff, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content (it's more like semi-explicit but just to be safe), F/M, Hurt/Comfort, KID FIC (!!!!!) BEWARE ! OF ! BELLAMY ! WITH ! BABIES !, Post-Season/Series 03 (2 years post this season actually...), Sexual Tension, Sharing a bed and other domestic things, Unplanned Pregnancy, Yeah... you guessed it... NO RADIATION
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:32:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9911387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selflessbellamy/pseuds/selflessbellamy
Summary: “If you keep trying to rob yourself of orgasms while you’re with me, you and I are going to have problems.”Bellamy just huffs, pressing a lingering kiss to her collarbone. “Whatever you say,” he sighs, but continues tentatively: “… You gonna stay tonight?”(aka the one where there's no need to battle radiation, but Clarke and Bellamy accidentally create a new life... Together)





	1. Chapter 1

By now, his bed smells like home: Of pine, smoke evaporating into air and sweat as his movements push her spine further into the soft furs. In the dim light of the cabin, she can barely see him, but his warm breath collides with her bare skin at the seconds he doesn’t spend kissing her. Next to her head by the pillow, their fingers are intertwined, holding on as if waves of pleasure are ones in which they might drown.

“Close your eyes, Bellamy…” Clarke whispers against his shoulder before pressing her lips to it. The saltiness of his skin causes her to tighten her legs around his waist and run her fingertips through his dark, curly hair. “Forget about my needs for a second,” with those words, she sucks on his sensitive pulse point until she feels him let go; the muscles of his back are like the mountains of an atlas, and the feeling of them becoming slack under her touch almost brings tears to her eyes.

For a few moments, he presses their damp foreheads together, so their breaths can slow while mingling. Then, he rolls off her with a low groan, and Clarke blinks away the tears before murmuring: “If you keep trying to rob yourself of orgasms while you’re with me, you and I are going to have problems.”

Bellamy just huffs, pressing a lingering kiss to her collarbone. “Whatever you say,” he sighs, but continues tentatively: “… You gonna stay tonight?”

Worrying her lower lip, Clarke tries to think of reasons why she shouldn’t, yet she stills end up with only bad ones. After all, she came to his cabin with tears rolling down her cheeks, begging for his comfort - leaving him to sleep alone in sheets that smell like _‘together’_ would be no less than cruel.

As a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, she finally replies: “If you’ll allow it.”

His hand tangling in the golden waves of her hair, Bellamy pulls her closer, murmuring sweet nonsense into her ear as she rests her forehead on his shoulder. Exhausted, she takes in the wonderfully familiar scent of dirt, fire and gunpowder that no amount of water ever seems to rinse off his skin: It’s just _him,_ embedded into his soul like the scars and the torturous nightmares that cause him to wake with a scream in the middle of the night. Sometimes she’s there to doodle comforting patterns on his chest with her fingertip and kiss his eyelids until he stops crying. 

Sometimes, she’s not. Sometimes, it feels as though they’re miles from each other, separated by the ruthless distance that never quite disappears. Maybe that’s why they started having sex, to be as close to each other as humanly possible - to fiercely hold on until inevitability manages to break them apart. 

But it never stops there, this time being no exception: “Want to tell me what happened?” Bellamy asks, pressing his lips to her fingertips. Swallowing, Clarke fights to sound strong: “I already did, remember?”

“I know, but clearly not enough.” 

“How can you possibly be the judge of that?”

Once again, he sighs, but he’s serious this time: “Clarke, you don’t usually cry during sex.”

Like most of the time, he’s right. She attempts to ignore how her heart flips at the word ‘usually,’ because she still finds it difficult to grasp that them sleeping together has become a pattern, a habit, something that allows ‘usual’ and ‘unusual’ circumstances. Also, he knows her better than anyone: He’s seen her at her strongest, at her most vulnerable, at her happiest, and as if that isn’t enough, he’s seen her naked, too. In the end, this means that he can most likely sense when something makes her upset, and there’s simply no point in trying to hide it from him. 

Albeit slowly, she begins to speak: “You know Benjamin Allister?” At the question, Bellamy nods, which makes sense, because he probably has guard shifts with him every once in a while. “Today, he came running into medical, yelling for my mother. He was carrying his five-year-old son, Caspar in his arms--“ As a terrible image from her memory tries to force itself into Clarke’s mind, she squeezes her eyes shut, and Bellamy hurries to remind her that he’s there by pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “-- He frantically told me that the two of them had walked a couple of miles into the forest, looking for animals because his son had been begging to see one, but-- the little boy had fallen into an old grounder trap.”

Now, Bellamy shuts his eyes as well, inhaling sharply, which causes Clarke to wait a few seconds before continuing reluctantly: “By the time Benjamin had returned, his son had lost too much blood… He died in my mother’s arms,” suddenly, Clarke can’t fight the images anymore; they are an endless stream of merciless reminders, and sobs rip through her, threatening to make her crumble like paper, break like the thinnest glass, but then his arms are there, wrapping around her and pulling her into his chest. “I keep telling myself that there’s no way we could’ve saved him, but I--“ 

“I know,” he says, and she can hear in his voice that the only reason why he isn’t breaking as well, is that she needs to feel safe right now. “I know. You did everything you could.” 

For a moment, she wants to tell him how _‘sometimes that just isn’t enough,’_ but then she remembers that he knows it better than anyone, because he’s Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Right now, however, he is only Bellamy, doing his best to comfort her, and her heart flutters at the realization. Cheeks tear-stained, she leans up to kiss him, which is something that they still haven’t managed to do outside of the sheets. Here, it actually makes sense, even if the blissfulness is always short-lived.

“Get some sleep,” he murmurs once their lips have separated.

“I’m here,” she replies, squeezing his hand.

* * *

 

In the morning, Clarke’s woken by the intense rays of sunshine breaking through the old glass of the window. Upon opening, the first thing her eyes catch a glimpse of is how the early morning sun makes the brown skin on Bellamy’s back look like glowing bronze. Smiling a little to herself, Clarke scoots closer, pressing a fingertip to each of the freckles there, carefully connecting them in constellations.

“Morning,” Bellamy drawls, nearly startling her. With that, he turns to her, encountering the slightly disappointed look on her face.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” at her apology, he just smiles, moving a golden wave that have stuck to the flushed skin of her cheek to its usual spot behind her ear. 

“I have a shift in twenty anyway. Actually, I should probably get going,” in spite of that fact, he doesn’t move. She raises her eyebrows at him, noticing his hesitance as he stares at her, his dark brown gaze carrying a certain kind of awe that rarely paints it. Then again, her being with him in the morning is a _rare_ occurrence…

Leaning in, he allows the tips of their noses to graze, and as she looks at him through soft, half-lidded eyes, she tells him: “Miller’s probably waiting for you…”

“Are you trying to get rid off me?” He teases, placing a chaste kiss to her lips without thinking. Wide eyed, he instantly pulls back, remembering how they never kiss unless sex is involved. “Sorry, it just--“ To his surprise, she cuts his apology off by _kissing him,_ her lips moving patiently against his, and he can’t prevent the satisfied noise that escapes from the back of his throat. 

Breaking the connection, Clarke murmurs, her fingertips lingering at the back of his neck: “We’re in bed, so it’s fine,” but despite those words, she swallows nervously. It’s not usually _‘fine’_ \- Usually, he leaves the bed as if the desire for cuddling doesn’t exist and gets dressed for the day, his eyes never leaving hers. Honestly, the only satisfaction he gets from that is observing carefully as crimson red sneaks into her cheeks, exposing her as aroused by the mere look of him. 

He’s always forced to leave, because he knows that the morning offers no time for them. They hardly make sense in the hours past five, but they never cease to rule while the moon is out.

“If you say so, Princess,” he says at last, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth while he presses his lips to her forehead. With that, he leaves her on the bed to stare at the ceiling as he puts on his clothes. _Duty calls. It always does._

* * *

 

 

Two days later, Clarke is sitting by a table (no, _the_ table, _their_ table) in the makeshift bar, looking at the sky as the sunset paints it beautifully with soft orange, purple and pink strokes. According to most people in Arkadia, this view is the most wonderful in the world, as it marks the end of another day filled with draining work. Simply surviving on this planet causes bones to break, and not even the soft breath of wind or a rare good night’s sleep seems to perfectly mend them.

She feels this too, frowning at her empty cup of water as if that is going to make it refill itself. In spite of the current drought in her throat, Clarke decides that shouldn’t stand up, fearing that her body might shred to pieces on the spot.

Knocking her out of her thoughts, a brown-haired mechanic takes the spot opposite her with a dramatic sigh. “Shitty day?” She asks, raising one of her perfect eyebrows as she notices the expression on her friend’s face. Clarke only nods in response, causing Raven to huff and pass her a flask of moonshine. “Bellamy’s not gonna be here, right?” 

“No, probably not,” Clarke replies, trying to prevent herself from frowning at the flask whilst making no move to accept it. 

“… Okay, then you and I should drink together for once.” 

The mechanic’s right, since drinking moonshine at the end of a workday has become a thing between the two leaders, and they tend to do it in silence, too, the air around them a mix of gunpowder and antiseptic. Lately, however, Clarke hasn’t been in the mood to drink alcohol at all, since the mere smell of Monty and Jasper brewing it seems to make her hung-over, as it causes the feeling of her skull slowly being turned inside out.

“I’m sorry, Raven. I just don’t feel like it.”

For a few long moments, Reyes lets those words hang in the air as if Clarke has any intension of taking them back. Then, she simply shrugs, putting the flask back to its home in her small rucksack. The silence that follows lets Clarke believe that she won’t be questioned, but knowing, Raven she should have at least foreseen that she wasn’t going to escape an interrogation that easily. Nevertheless, the first question that is thrown at her is one that she never would’ve expected: “…It’s Bellamy, isn’t it?” 

Clarke just looks at her, too baffled to form any words in response. Therefore, Raven continuous: “Don’t waste time trying to act like nothing’s changed between you. Everyone can see that it has… My point is: You two fighting is bad for all of us, you understand? If your partnership falls, all hell breaks loose… So _please_ , I know that Bellamy can be a dick--” 

At that, Clarke has to stop her: “Raven, we’re _not_ fighting.”

Letting out a huff in disbelief, Raven looks like she’s about to make an argument, but frankly Clarke would much rather tell her the truth than deal with the huge amount of shade that her friend could potentially throw.

“I’m sleeping with him,” as those words finally emerge from her lips, it hits Clarke how incredibly odd they sound in spite of her effort to utter them in a rational tone. 

“You’re… what?” For the first time, Raven appears genuinely flabbergasted, but Clarke really doesn’t care to explain it any further. Also, her friend’s a genius, which means she understands, even if she doesn’t know how to process the information. Naturally, Clarke can’t blame her, because she’s been struggling with the same thing for the past three months: Trying to figure out what sleeping with her co-leader entails and how to ignore the feelings that arise when he’s inside her…

Suddenly, Clarke realizes that she’s blushing and that Raven is staring at her while her own eyes are fixated on the surface of the table. 

“Jesus Christ, Clarke. You’re not falling in love with him, are you?” 

“No,” she replies, a little too fast. “… It’s just sex.” 

The lie tastes like poison on her tongue, which nearly causes her to wince. In spite of this, she continues: “It’s not something I think much about. I feel like crap today, but that has nothing to do with him.” 

“You sure, Griffin?”

Of course she is! She’s learned enough from her mother over the years to know that headaches, exhaustion and nausea are most likely symptoms of stress, not worry or anything else. Frankly, she will most likely feel much better in the morning after sleeping for a few hours. There’s nothing to be concerned about… Absolutely nothing. 

While Raven’s question continues to hang in the air, Clarke spots Bel lamy in the distance by the gate, his shoulders and jaw tense. “Does that man even know how to relax?” Raven comments upon having followed Clarke’s line of vision. 

“Not really…” Because Bellamy is always doing _something_ , whether it’s guarding the gate, fulfilling his leadership responsibilities by attending meetings, or teaching kids about history. Actually, their nights together are perhaps the only times where he allows himself to take a break… with _her_. 

The sex is an excuse, a necessity. It shouldn’t mean anything… and yet it still does.

As she takes her eyes off him to look at the ground again, her eyes catch a glimpse of a small, white flower blooming in the ground by the tip of her boot, and suddenly her brain is slowly going over her symptoms again: _Headaches… Exhaustion… Nausea._ They’re so typical and usually nothing to worry about, but the fact that they’re so common is what makes panic travel through her veins, because what if it isn’t what she expects? What if she isn’t just working too much or worrying about her relationship with Bellamy? What if the symptoms don’t go away when she lets herself rest?

She swallows hard.

_… Does that mean she could be pregnant?_


	2. Chapter 2

Naturally, most of the importance of the council and overall leadership disappeared slowly with the destruction of ALIE, and now - almost two years later - the only issues that are discussed at meetings are relatively simple: Last month, Bellamy and Clarke took a trip to a nearby Grounder village with the goal of establishing a trade agreement that would give their people better clothes to wear during the winter. It’s not that things are ever really boring on Earth, especially since the distrust between the clans of the coalition still lurks in some places. For the most part, however, it’s insignificant, and with time Clarke has become increasingly less worried about it. 

After all, they haven’t heard the sound of war drums in 23 months. The calmness is difficult to get used when they have spent so much of their time on this planet running from armies and picking up the pieces of their broken hearts with blood-covered hands. 

Through this, there has been one constant in her life: One person who could make her feel completely safe, understood and _forgiven,_ even when there was so much darkness surrounding him. Still, the point is not that Bellamy Blake is a light that forces the shadows of her life apart - No, but he is a person who is willing to fight those shadows with her until his heart bleeds. It’s not worth questioning, because that’s just how their relationship is, how it’s been for so long that she hardly remembers a time where her life made much sense without him. Sometimes, she finds herself thinking they screwed a part of that up by sleeping together, which is what Raven had also pointed out to her: They’ve been acting differently around each other since the night three months ago when Clarke came to his cabin, drenched from the pouring rain and opened a brand new door by uttering two simple words: ‘ _Fuck me’_ against his lips like a damn plea.

“So, what do the two of you think?” The sound of her mother’s voice rips through her thoughts like lightning, and Clarke feels completely lost for a second until Bellamy, who is standing next to her, replies for both of them: “I think we’ll take a trip to the woods near Polis in an hour to continue the mapping of the area. We’ll make sure to catalogue any new animals or edible plants we find along the way.”

Glancing at him, Clarke smiles gratefully, and although it isn’t really evident, she’s sure he knows what it means… because he always does.

“Alright then that’s settled,” Kane remarks, his gaze focused on Abby, and Clarke can’t help but wonder why they’re standing _so_ close - _are they holding hands?_ Of course, she isn’t really the type of daughter that shares details about her relationships to her mother, and her not knowing about Bellamy is a nice example of the fact. Nonetheless, maybe she isn’t the only one keeping some things to herself…

 

* * *

 

“How many rations do you think we need?” Bellamy asks. Last summer, they started making their own rations out of various non-hallucianic nuts and dried berries, so they could survive long days during the winter. Since then, it’s become a regular thing, and they currently have seven people who work on making these rations every week, which means that they have enough to use them as small pockets of snacks for lengthy day trips.

The sudden rumble in the pit of her stomach seems to speak for her, as Bellamy raises his eyebrows and says: “Three it is.”

For a moment, Clarke is tempted to laugh, can even feel it rising to in her chest, but it is stopped almost immediately by a paralyzing thought: _Hunger._ In the past week, the possibility of pregnancy was not something she’d been able to completely stop thinking about. Frankly, she’d even refrained from going to Bellamy’s cabin since the night when the thought had struck her. 

Maybe she’s just being paranoid. After all, hunger is not only a sign of pregnancy - it’s most likely her body scolding her for not eating breakfast today. Usually, she is able to skip the first meal of the day without much trouble, though.

“You ready?” She asks to distract herself, and he offers a smile. 

“Always.”

 

* * *

 

Over time, the rover has become their favorite escapism, even though they mostly use it for their political responsibilities. She doesn’t really know why, but there’s just something extremely calm about sitting in the passenger seat, enjoying the silence. In Arkadia, it’s never silent: Kids running around, people yelling, cabins being constructed… Here, with him, it’s different, because the atmosphere around them is one that allows her to think, and still she doesn’t. There is simply no constant stream of worries running through her mind at an overwhelming pace, no screams from her memory haunting her, no unresolved conflicts that she is forced to concentrate on. 

It’s just _peaceful,_ and therefore she finds herself closing her eyes…

 

While mapping, they find a new sort of edible berries, blue and sweet, but not much else - or at least, nothing too extraordinary, which is disappointing considering that they would’ve liked to find something that would make going on a daytrip in the middle of a minor heat wave worth it.

At the end of the afternoon, they find a tiny waterfall in which they wash their faces and hands. Running some water through his hair, Bellamy asks: “Would it be inappropriate if I took my shirt off?”

Clarke can’t help but roll her eyes. “I wouldn’t be seeing anything new, would I?” 

Handing her the last pack of rations, Bellamy blinks at her words, then replies: “No, I guess not… It’s just that you haven’t really been talking to me this week, and I thought that… I don’t know, that maybe this whole _sex thing_ was starting to make you uncomfortable.” 

Now it’s Clarke’s turn to blink, startled by the impact of his words, and she feels them soften her gaze. Shit, she feels incredibly bad (not that she would ever tell him that, because he’d freak out), knowing that he thinks she’s been purposefully ignoring him - and not only that, because he thinks that the reason for her silence is discomfort in their relationship, which _no._ What’s worse is that she doesn’t think she’s ready to reassure him with the truth either, since the words: ‘I think I could be pregnant’ is ones that she can’t say out loud. Not in this moment.

Instead, she reaches out to grab the hem of his dark blue shirt and pulls it over his head. “Bellamy Blake, you do _not_ make me uncomfortable.” 

He swallows, nodding, as if he’s struggling to believe it, which doesn’t surprise her. Desperate to convince him, she curls her fingers around his bicep, looking deeply into his earth-colored eyes. “You understand?” The tension between them is unbearable at this point, and Clarke has to fight the urge to kiss him. 

“I understand,” Bellamy murmurs, his words low, almost dark. She knows this one (as well as a thousand others) - it’s his sex voice, which is so tempting that having to ignore it is nearly painful. 

“Will you make a fire? I want to stay here a bit.”

“Sure… What are you gonna do?” 

“I’m going to draw you.”

 

And she does, as he sits on the moss-covered ground, his bare upper body bathed in the warm light from the flames in front of him. Knowing he is acting as a model, a satisfied smile turns the corners of his lips up, and the sparks flicker within his gaze. Of course, she’s drawn him before on several occasions, but this is the first time that he’s fully aware of it. 

This is also the first time she has managed to capture him in a state of calmness, since her other drawings are of him taking aim with his rifle, doing target practice with an axe and playing with children. On this drawing, every one of his features are soft, even his shoulders, which amazes her. She just hopes that he likes the final result, and can actually recognize himself without the worried frown on his face and the bags underneath his eyes.

When she decides it’s finished, he spins around to see the paper as she holds it up.

“It’s a masterpiece,” he concludes after about three seconds of looking at it, and the truth is that she wouldn’t have believed those words if they’d been said by anyone but him. Because it’s him, her heart skips a beat… 

They sit in silence for a while until Bellamy notes that the stars have come out from their hiding, and then they move to the roof of the rover where they sit in silence again, gazing at constellations together. Shifting her attention from the dark blue sky to him, Clarke hopes that she’ll find every pattern that is currently above them, on his cheeks and in his eyes eventually.

“You know what’s missing, Princess?” 

“What’s missing?” 

“ _Music_ … Wait a second.” 

Although she understands where he’s coming from, Clarke can’t stop herself from chuckling. Of course, he can be the biggest dork in the world when he feels comfortable with it, so this is a very promising sign: It tells her that he’s finally stopped worrying, and that he just wants to enjoy the moment now. The only thing that prevents her from feeling the exact same way is the constant thought lingering at the back of her mind - the truth she couldn’t spill to him earlier - but there’s no need to tell him about it until she’s certain that it’s worth worrying about.

Bringing her back to reality, soft tones from Maya’s Ipod flow from the rover, coloring the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Honestly, Clarke doesn’t really know what the new colors are exactly, but when Bellamy comes back, settling in his spot next to her, they form a nebula.

_You were on a frequency,_

_The perfect opposite of me_

_Though I never needed any proof_

_To trust the heart that beats inside of you._  

The words of the song hit her like a tidal wave, leaving drops of water in her ocean blue eyes that run down her cheeks before she can think to stop them. Looking away to mask the embarrassing reaction, Clarke wonders what the hell has gotten into her. It’s been a long day, but why in the world would that cause her to cry at song lyrics? Suddenly, she feels Bellamy’s hand on hers, slowly intertwining their fingers, which is an action that successfully brings her attention back to where it should be.

She’s stunned to see that she’s not the only one who’s touched, because while he isn’t crying like her, his gaze speaks louder than a thousand words. 

“It’s crap, right?” He jokes, causing her to make a sound that is clearly half-sob, half-chuckle, and while she dries the remaining tears off her cheeks, he runs his free hand gently through the golden waves of her hair.

 

_Only one thing really matters:_

_We're still here. We're still here…_

It weighs on her heart, existing, but he’s there. Feeling a spark of courage, Clarke touches her stomach, and for a stupid split second she finds herself actually _wishing_ to be pregnant. Then Bellamy speaks: “With all of the death we’ve seen, I’m just grateful we’re still alive.” 

The cruel realization hits her with those words, causing her to remove her hand as if she’d been burned. _They don’t know if they’ll survive another month, let alone enough time to properly raise a child._

Hell, she doubts she would ever be _able to_ raise a child. The commander of death is not someone you would want as a mother.

It’s almost as if Bellamy can sense when she sense when she thinks of that horrible title, because he breaks the silence: “Clarke, let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

When Clarke wakes up in her tent in the middle of the night, she doesn’t know how she got there, although she can deduct her way to the most rational explanation. Even though she knows she should be grateful, she just feels empty, affected by the loneliness of the cold tent. Five months ago, once he’d finished his own, Bellamy offered to build her a cabin, but having witnessed how he’d worked himself to the bone for so long trying to construct the first one, she quickly dismissed the offer, in spite of his initial insistence.

 _“We can just share mine then,” he’d said, a teasing expression within his gaze._ Of course, this was before they knew what their relationship was going to turn into. Now, while biting her lip, she decides that she’s going to take him up on that old idea, no matter how much of a joke it was. 

Therefore, she hurries across Arkadia as the fresh breeze of summer dances around her. It’s almost pitch black, but the stars guide her to the door of his cabin. At first, she lets a couple of seconds pass, taking a nervous breath before knocking. She barely has time to regret it, because he opens the door almost immediately, her name a confused whisper as it passes his lips. 

“I can’t sleep…” Clarke struggles, feeling tears in her throat that strain her voice. “I shouldn’t have woken you up, Bellamy. Go back to sleep, I’ll just--“ 

“You didn’t wake me up,” pulling her into his chest, he murmurs those words into her hair. She’s stunned upon realizing that this is the first time she has experienced the atmosphere of his cabin as anything but sexual upon her arrival at night. It’s the first time that she’s just here to sleep.

“What was keeping you awake?” Clarke asks once they’re huddled together on the bed, their limbs not far from entangled as a result of the limited space. “Nightmares?”

“No… Not really,” he breathes, and she can sense him smile a little before he continues: “I was just thinking.”

“About the hunting trip next week?”

Shaking his head at her guess, he begins to seem nervous, fidgeting with a strand of her hair. “About the first time we had sex,” he then explains, voice faltering slightly.

Oh… _Oh._ Although her initial thought seems like the conclusion that most people would jump to, Clarke quickly understands that it isn’t like that. “What about it?” Very carefully, she asks the question while placing a fingertip to the dimple in his chin. Then, she tips his face upward, forcing his eyes to meet hers, and she feels his jaw clench.

 “I was too rough with you… I-- It wasn’t what it should’ve been.”

“Too rough? _Bellamy_ , have you completely forgotten how it went?” At his name, her voice softens, and her heart twitches painfully for a second, because he feels _guilty,_ even when he has absolutely no reason to be. She figures that they’re both prone to that emotion after everything they’ve been through, and it shouldn’t upset her the way that it does. 

To remind him, she quickly recaps the story of _that night_ from her perspective. He’s right in a way, because they were angry at each other: She, because he was planning to go on the second dangerous mission of the week - and he, because she was putting up a fight in order to make him stay. After spending an entire day scowling at him and feeling her blood boil every time their eyes met, she went through a rainstorm at night to get to his cabin. Honestly, the plan was just to scream at him and slam some doors like a petulant child, but upon seeing his face, all determined and proud, she _wanted_ him.

“I asked you to fuck me, remember? You did. It was rough, _hot_ and I enjoyed it,” in her eagerness to convince him, Clarke hadn’t registered that she was holding his face in her hands - that only hits her in this moment. Watching his lips part slightly, as he’s baffled by the sheer genuineness of her words. “Did you enjoy it?” She continues, searching his eyes.

“Of course I did--“ 

“Then please stop feeling guilty, alright?” Forcing a smile through desperation, Clarke presses a chaste kiss to the skin between his furrowed eyebrows, and wraps her arms around him.

A few moments pass before he returns the hug, clinging to her like a rock in the middle of a hazardous ocean. Feeling his warm breath create goosebumps at the back of her neck, Clarke is hit by a thought that causes her heart to sink painfully: _If he feels this way about having sex with her, how bad will it be if he learns that he might’ve gotten her pregnant?_

* * *

 

Just as Clarke thinks her symptoms are fading in the following week, indicating that she was merely experiencing a bad pregnancy scare, she’s throwing up into a trashcan at the smell of blood during her early shift in medical. 

“ _Clarke_ , are you okay? What’s going on?” Wide-eyed, Abby stares at her daughter, unable to rush to her aid, as she’s currently giving a guard some quick stitches. It’s not a bad injury, something that Clarke normally handles without blinking. In her time on Earth, she’s seen people being speared through the chest, tortured and suddenly she’s losing her breakfast over a relatively small cut on a patient’s forehead.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Clarke replies, looking at how her hands are still shaking, giving her away. “I must’ve eaten some bad fruit.”

 

Apparently, her weak voice is convincing enough for an exhausted doctor, because Abby allows her to finish the shift without interrogating her further. As it happens, this is the most relief Clarke gets to experience that day, because not only does the nausea hang around until the afternoon hours, but multiple people seem to decide that it’s a good day to test her patience.

“Come on, Clarke! It’ll be fun,” Jasper insists, and she rolls her eyes, repeating as carefully as she can that they’re not visiting the nearby grounder village on Unity day. There’s just no way she going to risk the newly established trade agreement by allowing a bunch of drunken teenagers to go there. “Do you know what fun means at this point?” Oh, how he loves to push it. 

“Jasper, I’m not dealing with this right now. You can help Monty with the new showers.” 

“And be a third-wheel to him and Harper? No thanks.”

Without bothering to protest any further, Clarke walks away from him as fast as possible, settling into one of the hammocks that they’ve hung by the tailoring station. Closing her eyes, she prays for some relaxation, so that the throbbing pain on the inside of her temples will have a chance of disappearing. 

Soon enough, though, someone’s towering over the hammock, blocking the sunlight. Opening one eye, Clarke barely manages to hold back a frustrated grunt. Above her, Murphy sends an unapologetic smirk before he asks: “Have you seen Emori?”

“No. Couldn’t you have asked someone else? Perhaps someone who, you know, wasn’t trying to _rest_?”

“Someone’s moody today,” is all he replies before leaving, and Clarke wishes to leave this planet long enough to get some decent sleep. The last time she had that was in Bellamy’s cabin last week while wrapped in his strong, secure arms, and she would love if they could make a habit out of it, but honestly it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. She doesn’t know exactly why - the only thing she’s certain of is that she misses him terribly, her heart clenching in pain every time the thought of him slips into her mind. 

Frowning, she realizes wasting time here does not make the heartache less cruel and gets up, only to find her entire body tense from lying down, her shoulders and neck killing her slowly while her spine seems to be giving in, because the simple act of standing hurts. 

At least, there’s one of the current types of pain that she can dull quickly as if she wants to. Her eyes flashing across Arkadia, they find Bellamy’s small cabin in the distance as if it was a skyscraper. He should have ended his guard shift by now, unless he has done the usual and taken on an extra load of work. Deciding that she has nothing to lose, Clarke starts to walk as swiftly as her aching body will carry her.

 

* * *

 

Entering his cabin, Clarke finds him sitting on the chair reading through the notes from their recent day trip, the dark curls of his hair sticking to his damp forehead. While kicking off her worn boots, she senses her gaze on her before he speaks: “Rough day?”

Although she’d planned a frustrated sigh, the sound that escapes her is a whimper as the knots in her shoulder protest. Faster than wind, he is by her side, placing a finger underneath her chin to lift her gaze to his. Instead of meeting it, she winces in pain, apparently causing him to realize what the problem is, because he stops immediately, moving to take off her jacket. 

“Come here,” he says, pulling her towards the bed. “Sit down. I’ll try to help you as much as I can, but I have a feeling that I’m not nearly as good at the massage-thing as you.”

On _rough days,_ it’s usually her that has to take the strain out of his body by dealing with one knot at a time, which is a part of why she knows the muscles of his back so well, having mapped them with her hands. Still, she has a hard time imagining that he’ll be bad at it when he puts his hands to such good use… in other ways. 

“Relax a bit for me, okay?” He says while pulling her shirt off in one swift motion, and to her happiness he doesn’t waste any more time, slowly loosening the tense knots in her neck with the movements of his thumbs. Eventually, her body feels ten pounds lighter under his touch, and Clarke realizes that she doesn’t want it to end there.

And Bellamy, being the mind reader that he is, moves his hands to the crown of her hair, massaging her scalp until his calloused fingertips drive the headache away. Releasing a sigh of relief from the cage of her chest, Clarke allows her eyelids to flutter closed. In the end, the blissful relaxation doesn’t last much longer, as Bellamy’s hands slowly fall to her breasts, causing a sting of pain to run through her. Startled, she places her palms on his, moving them.

“Sorry,” she mutters, trying to hide the panic that is starting to creep into her voice. “I just…” 

“What’s going on?” His voice is so soft, and her eyes well up at the thought of being forced to lie to him when he’s clearly worried about her. Nevertheless, she has to tries her best: “Nothing,” insisting that, she’s frustrated at how weak it sounds.

“Clarke--“

“It’s _nothing_ , Bellamy!” She hisses desperately, yet feels the tears that are already within her eyes sting with guilt. Pushing him away when all she really wants is his comfort, carves a deep hole on the inside of her heart that just bleeds.

But he refuses to leave her alone, turning her around and forcing her to face him. “It’s not nothing,” he tells her, running the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone and chasing her gaze as it moves away from his own. “It hurts to see you in this much pain and not being able to take it away… It’ll get better, I promise, but please trust me.”

Pressuring herself to look at him, Clarke replies, the words strained from tears: “I don’t think it will.”

At those words, his lips part slightly before he worries them, and fear is starting to paint his dark brown eyes. “What do you mean?”

When she chokes on a sob, his hands move to cradle her face, and when she reopens her eyes, taking a slow, painful breath, his gaze starts to search hers for answers. Heart pounding in her chest, Clarke thinks that it’s too heavy to ever let those words pass her lips, but in a brave moment, she picks herself up, and in spite of her strength, she expects the world to tear itself apart, as she can’t carry it alone anymore… 

“I think I’m pregnant...”

For a while, those words overpower everything, as well as his hands on her cheeks, and she doesn’t even realize that she’s looking at him until he closes his closes his eyes briefly, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“… Pregnant?” He breathes in a tense tone that she doesn’t recognize, as his gaze remains soft, and she figures that he’s most likely shocked, because no words will emerge from his mouth. On top of that, his hands - that had been softly caressing the skin of her cheeks just a few moments ago - have stilled suddenly.

“Well, _maybe_ \-- I…” At once, panic courses through her veins, causing her entire body to tense, and Bellamy takes a single look at her before pulling her into an embrace, his hand carefully stroking the small of her back. Barely a second passes before she’s sobbing into his neck, silently praying for the soft material and familiar scent of his scent to calm her. Through tears, she senses Bellamy press kisses into her hair, which only makes her cry harder. The flood of tears that her heart has been holding back for two weeks is finally washing over her. When it feels like she’s drowning, she hugs him tighter, bracing herself against the anchor that is his body.

“Clarke…” He murmurs, her name devastated as it leaves his lips. Gently, he pushes her away just enough to hold her face between his palms again. “Breathe, take your time, because you’re going to be okay. You just need to tell me what’s been going on.”

It’s difficult to make her voice form actual words when it’s been nearly torn apart by sobs, yet eventually she finds enough strength in his reassuring gaze to tell him about the nausea, the exhaustion, the pain and the hunger. Once she’s done talking, she finally feels the weight of the world being taken off her shoulders, and she would be incredibly relieved if it wasn’t for the brutal reality that knocks most of the air out of her lungs.

“What are we going to do?” 

Bellamy looks at her a long time, and she realizes that he’s shaking and that there are tears in his eyes. When he speaks, he almost succeeds at hiding the reaction from her: “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out,” with that, he leans down to grab her t-shirt from the floor, discreetly wiping a tear off his freckled cheek using the back of his hand before he comes back up to give the piece of clothing to her. “Don’t worry, Clarke. We will figure this out…”


	3. Chapter 3

Looking around, Clarke is extremely proud of how Arkadia has evolved, only as a result of mutual effort: In two years, they’ve managed to built a few wooden cabins with built-in fireplaces, a playground for the children that successfully distracts them from going into the woods, and several showers, which were - to say the least - much needed. Currently, Monty and Raven are developing a method that hopefully will allow them to grow grain and vegetables. From the outside, it looks as if the council does most of the work, but that’s far from true - After all, a foundation is nothing without a construction.

Twice a week, members of the guard gather a number of adult volunteers that will go with them on hunting trips. Usually, they come back with fish, rabbits or deer, and the tailoring station use the scraps of fur and pelt to make clothes that are crucial in the colder seasons: coats, boots and gloves.

Bellamy is a member of the elected guard, which means that he always goes hunting, and he clearly loves the freedom of the forest, as it takes some of the leadership responsibilities off his shoulders. That’s why Clarke refuses to believe when Miller tells her that Bellamy didn’t want to participate this time.

“But he’s been looking forward to that trip for days!”

“I know,” Miller shrugs. “He just said there was some personal stuff he wanted to deal with first.”

 _Of course…_ Biting her lower lip, Clarke tries to be surprised, upset even, but all that does is make her smile softly at the ground. “Like what?” She counters as though she doesn’t know the answer, and Miller simply raises an eyebrow, smearing some of the gunpowder that covers his fingertips.

“You.” 

Although she was actually expecting it, the word doesn’t cease to pull at the corners of her mouth. Then, she wonders if Bellamy really told Miller about her, but it’s not likely. A moment later, as if she’d thought it out loud, Miller says: “Well, it might not be. He didn’t specify anything, but he seemed really distracted this morning, and I know only of one person who can be the cause of that,” glancing at her, a small grin spreads on his face that lasts until he points out that his break is over. 

“Thanks Miller. I’ll do what I can to convince him to rejoin the party.”

In spite of the confidence she purposely puts into that promise, she is aware of how it is almost impossible to persuade Bellamy to do something different from what his heart tells him he should. Right now, it’s apparently telling him to stay in Arkadia until they know if she’s pregnant or not - and honestly, she finds it difficult to condemn his selflessness in this instance, because she wants him here - and yet she would hate for him to cancel something that makes him feel better in order to be with her. He shouldn’t have to sacrifice his happiness for anyone, not anymore…

 

An hour later - after asking around - Clarke finds him sitting by the edge of the crystal blue lake a few miles inside the woods near camp. Most of the time, Bellamy is too busy, too much like Atlas; a god that doesn’t have time to isolate himself, so when he does it’s because he desperately needs it. This causes her to think that maybe it would be inconsiderate to disturb him, but the silence between them has been stretched out for too long already, and there are several things they simply _have_ to talk about. They won’t figure anything out if they allow fear to consume their relationship.

“So this is where one must travel to find Bellamy Blake,” she jokes, attempting to break the ice as quickly as possible whilst walking towards him. To her surprise, it appears to work, because there’s a smile on his face when he looks at her over his shoulder.

As her heart beats wildly against her ribcage, Clarke settles down next to him, stealing a glance of his striking face and his eyes that look blankly ahead. She doesn’t even have to speculate for a second before she realizes what he’s thinking about.

“Miller told me that you’re not going hunting on Wednesday.”

“He’s right. I’m not,” briefly, Bellamy looks at the ground, which is covered in newly dried pine needles, then he shifts his attention to her at last, and his eyes carry an insistent gleam, because he has read her mind like a book as always, meaning that he knows where she’s going with this.

But Clarke still wants answers: “Why? Hunting is important to you.”

Next to her, he clenches his jaw, unable to deny the truth to her statement, so when he turns his head again, he says: “Yes, it is,” but what Clarke doesn’t expect is his immediate continuation, in which every syllable is coated in affection: “But _you’re_ more important.”  

And just like that, Clarke can’t think of argument. Looking at his serious expression, she notes how the color of his eyes seems to have deepened to a shade that reminds her of rain-soaked earth - his lips are like the curve of a road she would love to spend her entire life walking along. They’re safe and warm, and she wants to get lost in them.

“Clarke…” With her name, Bellamy breaks the silence and the spell. “We should probably go see your mom today.”

“You don’t have to come,” Clarke replies, but she quickly realizes how silly it sounds. Surely enough, he reminds her:

“Yes, I do, Clarke. If you’re-- If you’re pregnant, it’s my responsibility, too. I’m not letting you do any of this alone.”

As the protectiveness shines through every one of his features, Clarke is struck by how incredibly happy she is that it’s _hi_ m - and not just a man she has sex with, but a friend and a partner who has proven time and time again how much he care about her safety. Although the need to be physically affectionate with him is as strong as ever, she’s been wary about giving into it since she told him that she might be pregnant. Therefore, she finds herself hesitating for a few seconds before laying her head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” she tells him just as he wraps an arm around her, pulling her a little closer. Inhaling the scent of the woods around them, Clarke closes her eyes and tries to forget the fear that has settled in her chest like a giant, dark cloud…

_She doesn’t know what she’d do without him._

 

* * *

 

Today is the day of Clarke’s evening shift in the medical bay, which is the one that she enjoys the most because it isn’t very busy, allowing some room for a little bit of relaxation. Normally, she sits on the couch with her mother where they small talk about things they’ve seen or otherwise experienced during the day that made them happy. It sounds somewhat boring, but it’s actually very important that they try to acknowledge the simple joys. 

“Unity day’s coming up,” Abby says, glancing at Clarke who is fidgeting with the sipper of her jacket. “And I think you should try to have some fun while you have the chance.”

For some reason, it reminds her of Jasper’s _‘live while you’re young’_ attitude, which can get annoying but it’s also deeply understandable. Clarke spent her last year as a teenager doing politics, trying to make sure the peace lasted, so Arkadia could live up to its full potential over time. Frankly, it wasn’t until three months ago that she started living a little again by trying to enjoy existence - and since then her idea of a ‘fun’ has been a heated night in the sheets with Bellamy. Only her mother doesn’t know about that… yet. 

“Mom, are you really encouraging me to get drunk?”

“Sure. Drink a little. Dance. Spend some time with your friends… Before you know it, you’ll regret not doing these things.”

Looking at her concerned mother, Clarke offers a reassuring smile. “Maybe _you_ should drink a little. I think I’ll stick to water, though. The taste of moonshine is becoming quite disgusting to me.”

Okay, the last bit is a lie, but not exactly one that’s obvious. If she participates in the Unity Day celebration next week, and refuses to drink, people will become suspicious unless she has a good excuse.

 _Pregnancy_ is one _…_

As if her thought had summoned him, Bellamy walks in, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket as he tries to look as collected as possible. “Clarke, can we talk outside for a moment?”

 _Shit._ She had almost forgotten that they were planning on getting real answers today. Fighting to keep a straight face, she nods and doesn’t look at her mother before following Bellamy out.

Once they are standing a reasonable distance from the medical bay, Bellamy asks a question that he probably already knows the answer to: “Are you ready?”

Shaking her head, Clarke looks at him, which causes their eyes to lock. “No, but I have to be… Are you?” Before replying, Bellamy takes her face in his gentle hands, placing a kiss on her forehead, and she can actually feel him shaking.

“No,” he then admits, allowing her to pull him into a hug that lasts for as long as it can - for as long as they can put the real mission off.

Once again, he’s justifiably scared but choosing to wear a brave face for her sake, probably because he wants _her_ to feel safe. It makes Clarke wonder how selfless he can be before it breaks him. 

“I have no idea how to tell her,” Clarke whispers as they can see Abby sitting on the couch, holding a tablet.

“Just take your time. Like you did with me.”

When her mother looks up, Clarke realizes that this might’ve been a lot easier if she’d been honest and told her about Bellamy beforehand. Receiving the news that her daughter might be pregnant, and by a man that she didn’t know she was sleeping with, is perhaps too much to handle at once.

Therefore, Clarke starts to prepare herself for the worst as she speaks, trying hard to keep the nerves out of her voice: “Mom, can we talk to you for a minute?”

Abby sends them a small smile, which just makes her daughter feel worse. “There’s a council meeting tomorrow. We can all discuss it there.”

“It’s not politics,” Clarke explains, every word said quietly in fear that her voice will shake if she talks any louder. Next to her, Bellamy splays his fingers on her lower back for a moment, reminding her of his presence, and she finally takes a deep breath, giving her lungs the air they’d been pleading for.

Abby’s face is already dominated by suspicion, and the co-leaders can hear the wariness in her voice as she replies: “Okay… What’s going on?”

Sending Bellamy a glance that speaks volumes, Clarke sits down on a shitty, iron chair - an action that he soon copies. Right now, he doesn’t seem to care about the intense stare, which is glued on them, because he places a hand on Clarke’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze: This simple touch is one that lights up the dark hopelessness in her chest with a tiny spark, and suddenly it has it her explaining: “We’re here because… The implants that woman were given on The Ark for birth control -- I got mine at fourteen, remember?” Slowly, Abby nods, looking rather tense. 

Taking a deep breath, Clarke decides to make her point as vaguely as possible, so the bomb of the words hopefully will do less damage. “… Is there any possibility of them… _failing_?”

At that, Abby’s facial expression evolves into one of confusion. “On the Ark, we had a few cases like that, in which the implants stopped functioning, but it was discovered and taken care of… Why do you--?” Clarke turns her gaze towards her lap, sensing the realization seep into her mother’s explanation. With every moment that passes, her hart beats faster until it’s in her throat, tightening it like a knot. 

“Oh God,” Abby remarks. “That’s why _you’re_ here,” that last part is directed at Bellamy, who is the only person that Clarke dares to look at right now. He nods once, and obviously fights the urge to clear his throat before he says: “Yes, that’s why I’m here.” 

Suddenly desperate to turn her mother’s focus off Bellamy, Clarke stammers: “Look-- I don’t know for certain, but I was wondering if you would do a blood test. Maybe I’m just a little freaked out and misreading the signs, there’s no--“ But her mother cuts her off with a single wave of her hand, fingers trembling as she tells them that the faulty implants on The Ark all failed after five or six years.

“You’ve had yours for six, Clarke,” eyes wide, Abby stands up to pace around the room for a good thirty seconds before she agrees to do a blood test, but it clearly pains her. 

They’d managed to salvage some a lot of the medical equipment from Mount Weather, which means that they can do blood work (including safer transfusions) and big surgeries with anesthetic now. While her mother collects the blood from her veins in a few tubes, Clarke glances at Bellamy briefly, the panic within her gaze a request for comfort: That, he gives to her by briefly placing the palm of his hand on hers.

Tearing her gaze away, Clarke eyes the ultrasound machine that’s tugged away in the corner as a part of the ‘better safe than sorry’ department. The mere sight of it causes a thousand images to run through her mind, a horror movie that just won’t end, determined to make her think of her life as a nightmare.

Because her mother is in another room, putting the tubes into a machine for analysis, Clarke rests her head on Bellamy’s shoulder and battles a strong urge to cry. She can feel that his muscles are tense through the fabric of his shirt. “I know you’re scared, Bellamy. You’re allowed to show it,” whispering that, she closes her eyes, aware that he’s not going to listen to her.

“As long as we don’t know anything, I’m only freaking out on the inside.” 

At the sudden sound of her mother’s footsteps, Clarke moves away from Bellamy, nearly choking as her heart pounds against her chest like a wrecking ball, tearing down everything in its wake, and she struggles to regain her breath.

“The results should be here in about ten minutes,” instantly, Clarke knows that those minutes will be the longest of her life. “While we wait, you need to tell me how long you’ve been sleeping together for.” 

“About three months.” 

Placing a hand on her forehead, Abby breathes raggedly, which is something that she usually only does upon performing risky surgeries. This time, however, it’s not a sign of relief - this time, Clarke fears that it’s pure stress.

“And how long have you experienced symptoms for, Clarke?” 

Worrying her lower lip, Clarke takes merely a few seconds to think, not wanting to upset her mother more. “Two weeks, I suppose… Unless you count the headaches, which started last month.” 

Talking about this makes her realize that she should’ve noticed the signs earlier, but life on Earth can be distracting, not to mention exhausting, so pregnancy naturally wasn’t what she initially thought to be the cause of her symptoms. Frankly, until the talk she had with Raven, the possibility hadn’t crossed her mind, because on The Ark the implants were expected to work for thirty years minimum.

“Are you’re telling me that you could be more than a month pregnant?”

In response, all Clarke does is nod, too embarrassed to say anything. Suddenly, Bellamy begins to speak: “I should’ve thought more about this. It happened to my mother with Octavia…”

 _Shit_ , that’s true, and it makes another thing that has him feeling unreasonably guilty. The thought of it causes her heart to shatter painfully. As if that isn’t enough, the machine beeps, announcing that the blood test analysis is complete. Before leaving the room to grab the results, Abby sends Bellamy and Clarke a look of hopelessness that says it all. 

It’s unbelievable how a few seconds can pass by like an eternity when nerves seems to be eating you up from the inside, making you nauseous to the point where it feels like your head is spinning, the world turning in a million different directions, twisting your sense of reality. In a moment of desperation, Clarke’s hand wraps around Bellamy’s wrist, and she’s left thinking that he’s the only real thing in this moment. 

“Mom?” She stammers as Abby leans against the doorframe as if she was tipped, holding onto the paper with her shaking hands. At the sight, realization washes over Clarke, but she still refuses to believe it, pushing the thought out of her mind as soon as it enters.

“Your hCG levels are at 58.000,” is all her mother says at first, holding back tears. “You’re at least six weeks pregnant.”

A beat, then Clarke puts her face in her hands, and she wishes to cry, waiting for the sobs to emerge, but they don’t. All she does is heave, breathing as if every single ounce of air in her lungs is slowly being drained from them. It makes her chest burn like it has been lit on fire by the merciless truth: She’s pregnant. _Six weeks,_ possibly more and there is no longer any ‘maybe’ that can be forged into hope.

This is reality. 

“Look at me, both of you,” Abby commands, her voice sounding stern and strong despite how much it trembles. Once she has their attention, she instantly continues: “You’re young and you need to understand what kind of responsibility this is… Clarke, you need to eat _consistently_ , stay hydrated and _rest -_ I know that you think you can manage living life as you do now, but I can guarantee you that a baby cannot. Is that clear?” As Clarke nods, her mother turns to Bellamy: “And it’s your responsibility to remind her of this if she forgets.” 

Upon that, Abby takes a few seconds to breathe, but no more than that. “I know you think that you’ve experienced true responsibility down here, but I can assure you that leadership is nothing compared to raising a human being. It’s not just about you, or your people anymore. It’s about your child, and from this day forward, that is what will _always_ have to be your first priority.”

Although Clarke’s sure she knew all of this, she still needed to hear it for some reason - from a mother, from someone who loves her.

“You have a lot of thinking and talking to do,” when Abby breathes this, Bellamy and Clarke take it as a cue to leave, yet as they do Clarke can’t help but wonder how much emotion her mother was holding back while she spoke to them.

 

As soon as they’re out of medical, Bellamy gently pushes her towards the wall of the station, making sure no one can see or hear them before he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. It’s a little odd that after not being able to cry when they heard the result, the thing that causes the tears to finally spill, is how he holds onto her as if she is the only thing left in a hurricane. His entire body trembling, Bellamy murmurs an apology into her hair, and moments later, she feels his tears soak the skin at the back of her neck.

Reluctantly, she pulls back only to wipe them off his freckled cheeks. “Don’t apologize,” she whispers, but it only causes frustration to flash across his face in an instant.

“I should.”

“No, this--“ 

“I got you pregnant, Clarke!” He shouts, his voice trembling with anger that’s probably directed way more at himself than her. “On Earth! I don’t even date to think about all of the bad things that could happen, to _you,_ to-- the point is that if anything happens, I’ll be only person not suffering the consequences, and that’s a tad fucked up considering that this is my fault.”

She replies to his fiery like a waterfall: “This is _not_ your fault, Bellamy. We had sex, and we share the consequences of that. You don’t get to blame yourself right now, because I need us to be okay. I need you to be okay, so that we can get through this. Together.”

Blinking, Bellamy takes a careful step forward again to move a strand of hair to a place behind her ear. “Okay… We’ll take one day at a time,” even with these words, the fear still shines through his dark brown gaze. 

Noticing that, she hugs him, managing a soft smile as he buries his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent before asking, his voice warm: “Wanna stay in my cabin tonight?”

It’s the first time he directly invites her, which indicates a new step in their relationship that she doubts they’d taken had she not been pregnant… 

“Everything’s going to change, so we better get used to it…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always deeply appreciated :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs included in this chapter (if you want to listen):
> 
> \- 'so alive' by goo goo dolls
> 
> \- 'a thousand years' by christina perri

The night before Unity Day, Clarke is back on The Ark, dressed in nothing but an oversized white shirt, and the wisps of her golden hair dance around her face as she moves across a kitchen floor to the sound of soft rock. A grin stretches the corners of her mouth, causing her chest to feel bubbly, her heart beating with the tune on the radio: 

_Open up my heart like a shotgun_

_Blinded by the light of a new sun_

_Get up, get up, get out and get done_

_For the first time I feel like someone_

 

_Breaking down the walls in my own mind_

_Keeping my faith for the bad times_

_Get up, get up, stand like a champion_

_Take it to the world, gonna sing it like an anthem_

Just as the song is about to hit the most amazing note, a familiar face walks through the door, all freckles and smiles. Immediately, Clarke beams, starting to make her way to greet him, but someone else beats her to it.

“Daddy! Daddy!” A little girl races past her, almost crashing into Bellamy, but his arms are there to catch her, spinning her around until she giggles uncontrollably, placing her small hands on his face as if he is the sun within her reach. Running his hand through the dark curls of the girl’s hair, Bellamy pulls her closer, smiling softly as her arms wrap around his neck. Stunned by the sight, Clarke seems unable to do anything but watch, feeling happiness course through her veins, warming her heart as it beats for the two people in front of her. That lasts for a few moments, and she doesn’t even remember to count how many - then, everything dissolves, crumbling like paper right when it seems so strong.

When Bellamy appears before her eyes again, there is no little girl in his arms. Instead, there is a glass wall between them, thin and seemingly breakable, but looks can be so deceiving. _It’s the airlock,_ and no matter how hard she pounds on it, screaming until her throat burns and tears run down her face like waterfalls of hopelessness, she only feels her knuckles bleed.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” she shouts, the sobs wrecking her voice, but Bellamy merely shakes his head slowly, his lips trembling as he struggles to hold the tears back. 

“Mommy?” At the word, spoken by a confused little girl with freckles and light brown skin, Clarke’s stomach drops. Turning her head slowly, she catches a glimpse of the girl before she hears the sound of the airlock opening, sucking Bellamy into the void in one earth shattering second…

 

Clarke wakes up with a loud gasp that leaves her entire body trembling. Once the sobs start emerging, Bellamy sits up straight, knocked from his sleep by her pain. In the dim light, she feels his arms wrap around her, pulling her into an embrace that forms a bubble around them, and even though it makes her breath slow, the sobs don’t stop for a while. She has no idea exactly how long it lasts, because all that matters is how he holds her through it, rubbing soothing circles on her back to chase the demons off her spine.

“What was it about this time?” The question is breathed into her hair, his lips moving against the golden waves that cover her temple.

“Bellamy, I can’t…”

In spite of how much she needs to talk about it, the image of him being sucked into nothingness still burns at the back of her mind, fresh like an open wound on her tired soul _. And that girl…_  

“Please try,” he insists, because he knows that it’s the only thing that helps: Every time they’ve talked to one another about certain nightmares, they don’t experience them again - Somehow, the things they share seem less terrifying. They’re two warriors in a battle against a stream of images that is the product of their fears, but so far they haven’t lost. Closing her eyes, Clarke allows that fact to comfort her.

“You were floated right in front of me,” murmuring that, she feels tears sting behind her eyelids again, but she doesn’t want to cry anymore _. It wasn’t real._ She’s here with him, in his arms, his bed, which should make her feel less frightened, and yet… 

“Our daughter saw it, too.”

Those words cause his breath to hitch, so she presses a lingering kiss to his throat that has him exhaling raggedly. When Bellamy unfolds their hug to look at her, he’s worrying his lower lip, and she nods slowly. Her heart shatters as she recalls the pained expression on her father’s face before he was forced into the emptiness that took his life away. 

 _Perhaps he’s a star on the night sky…_ That’s the thought she’d used to comfort herself during the days that she spent in solitary, painting the walls of the cell in hopes that she could shape the memory of him into a charcoal piece of art. Of course, that hadn’t made the grief any easier, and now this nightmare has torn the scar open though it was barely healed in the first place.

“I don’t want our child to go through what we did, Bellamy.”

 _Our child._ She hasn’t said that before, and the words go straight to her heart, making it burst in about a million different ways. If Bellamy feels the effect of them, he’s really good at hiding it, as he just places a kiss on her forehead.

“I don’t either, but if we think too much about that, we’ll give up… And we can’t do that, Clarke.”

Swallowing her fears, she knows he’s right. They have to focus on the things that are happening right now, because life won’t become better if they let themselves be scared by the future… 

“One day at a time.”

Somehow, Clarke doesn’t remember anything that happens after that besides the vivid feeling of his fingers running gently through her hair, coaxing her to sleep. _Comfort is their personal, perfect lullaby._

 

* * *

 

The sun has barely risen above the mountains in the horizon before Harper, Monty and Emori are hanging lanterns from the trees that surround the growing town of Arkadia. ‘ _Good morning, Unity Day’_ is the immediate thought that pops into her head, although it’s not nearly as happy as one might believe it to be. Perhaps that’s just because of the nausea, which is currently twisting her mood.

Since they found out about the pregnancy four days ago, Clarke has spent every night in Bellamy’s cabin, and the fact that it is on the outskirts of Arkadia makes it easier, since it appears as if no one else has noticed the change. Honestly, it hasn’t been difficult to accustom to the new sleeping arrangements, because no other boundaries are being crossed: They still don’t kiss, but they also haven’t had sex in what feels like forever. In reality, it’s probably not more than three weeks, which   feel like a long time when you’re used to getting laid at least three times _a week._

After all, that’s probably why Clarke’s gaze is fixated on his muscled chest until it is covered up by the tan shirt that he pulls over his head. “Ready for breakfast?” He asks, struggling to suppress the smug smile, which teasingly pulls at the corners of his mouth because he definitely noticed her stare. 

The daily breakfast is porridge with berries and nuts - a meal that she usually enjoys; yet right now, merely picturing it makes her stomach turn uncomfortably. Therefore, she can hardly fake a smile at his question, but he understands immediately. “Are you feeling sick?”

“Yeah… Don’t worry, though. I’ll eat.” 

“Good,” he replies, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before they start walking towards the gate.

 

Next to the bar, they’ve managed to built a bigger form of cabin that works as a cafeteria, in which the people of Arkadia gather to pick up their two meals a day. The limited space only allows a few tables for people to sit at, so everyone just takes their breakfast and dinner with them to eat it wherever they want.

This morning, Bellamy and Clarke decide to sit by one of Arkadia’s many fireplaces, since the current weather is gloomy compared to what it has been like for the past month. Looking into her bowl of porridge, Clarke can’t help but frown, knowing that she cannot do what she usually does when her appetite lets her down in the morning: That would mean that she would not even try to eat. 

 _Clarke, you need to eat consistently…_ Her mother’s words ring at the back of her mind, causing her to reluctantly eat a spoonful of the porridge, then another and a third. Next to her, Bellamy silently encourages her by eating at her pace, even if that means that his breakfast goes gold towards the end. 

“How are you feeling?” He whispers in her ear as they wash the dishes in a large bowl of boiling water. 

“Not great, but I think I’ll pull through,” that reply is a tiny bit sugarcoated, considering that it will be a small miracle if she goes to bed tonight without having thrown up. On top of that, her head feels so heavy, and to be honest she’d much rather spend the day in bed, trying to sleep instead of celebrating Unity Day. Hopefully, she’ll feel better in the evening when the real party starts.

“You’ll tell me if you need to rest, right?”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

In the afternoon while Bellamy is on his guard shift, Clarke goes to the mechanic bay to talk to Raven and Monty about the fireworks that they’ve made for the celebration. The two are a dynamic duo that is perfect whenever they need to blow some shit up. Usually, however, they’re in charge of communicating with trade partners via radio and developing important methods, which contributes to the development of their small society.

“We’ve managed to restore a lot of the music tracks from Mount Weather, too. Dancing will be inevitable tonight,” Monty says, grinning, and to Clarke’s surprise, Raven cracks one of her rare smiles as well. The sight of it drains some of the worry from her heart.

“I’m sure Jasper will love that,” she thinks out loud while looking over the plans again. Everything that Clarke has seen for the celebrations so far seems very neat, yet she still feels stressed out for some reason, her mind racing a thousand miles per hour. 

“Maybe you should sit down, Clarke. You don’t look too comfortable.”

“I’m fine…”

But Raven gently pushes her back until she’s forced to sit down on the old couch in the room. It doesn’t exactly help, because she immediately becomes dizzy, the world spinning until she is even more nauseous than she was in the morning. Placing a head on her own forehead, Clarke exhales, trying to collect herself.

“Clarke…”

“Just give me a moment.”

They ask her if they need to get her mother, but she assures them that she’s simply overworked, that what she needs is some decent rest, and she’s relieved when they seem to buy it. Not bothered by how her friends continue working in the room, Clarke lays down, intending to relax for a moment. Instead, she actually drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

When she wakes up, her nausea has disappeared just like the sun that has almost completely set, having left its last orange glow in the clouds. Exiting the mechanic bay, Clarke is welcomed by a fresh breath of wind that brushes past her cheek as well as the sight of the lanterns in the trees, daring the night to kill their bright light. In the middle of the camp is a fire, which flames remind her of their first Unity Day celebration on the ground when the atmosphere was happy, wasted on worriless laughter despite the distant sound of war drums.

Tonight, there are no such drums, but will the happiness be the same? After all, they aren’t the same people as they were then. Frankly, Clarke’s not sure she would recognize herself if she had the chance to take a look back. 

_That’s why they’re currently focusing on what lies ahead…_

“Oh, Sleeping Beauty’s up, and right in time for the festivities,” Raven announces as she walks towards her, a cheeky grin vivifying her features by shining through her brown eyes. It’s contagious, Clarke realizes as her friend throws an arm around her shoulders, steering her towards the fire, by which everyone has gathered. 

“And by the way,” Raven whispers as Clarke’s eyes instantly fall on Bellamy. “I think there’s someone who’s already got dibs on the first dance with you.”

 _Indeed he has…_ She thinks while gazing at him: At how the dark curls of his hair fall on his forehead, the flames flicker within the earth of his eyes and the relaxed smile on his face succeeds at softening all of his sharp edges. 

“Clarke…” He starts, running a hand through his hair, and she sends him a reassuring smile, which tells him that she’s feeling better.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” with that knowing comment, Raven walks toward Harper and Monty who are drinking moonshine at the opposite side of the fire.

When she’s gone, Bellamy leans a little closer. “Clarke, does she…?”

“Yeah, she does… About the sex, not the -- you know.”

As Bellamy nods, the first song blasts through the old stereo from Mount Weather that Monty has repaired and enhanced in preparation for this today. That as well as Jasper’s loud cheer indicates the official start of the Unity Day celebration. While everyone scrambles to find a partner, Bellamy discreetly intertwines their fingers and runs his thumb along the back of her hand: This is an action that causes their eyes to lock for more than a few electrifying seconds before Clarke unwillingly breaks the connection in order to glance over her shoulder at the rare sound of her mother’s laugh.

She’s standing next to Kane at a distance that would allow them to supervise the party, but instead they’re looking at _each other_ , laughing at something, and although Clarke has no idea what it is, she’s grateful for it. Finding out about the pregnancy has certainly put a strain on her because of the enormous amount of stress and worry that came with it. Luckily, right now it appears as if it’s not entirely bad. 

Well, at least there’s hope…

“If someone offers you moonshine, just say that I got you covered,” with that, Bellamy pulls her attention back. In his hands, he’s holding a flask of water, which is a liquid that looks identical to moonshine, but it lacks the strong scent of alcohol that Clarke has despised for weeks. 

“Thanks,” she replies, smiling. Then, the song changes and the atmosphere, too, which melts into something tender. “Now, please dance with me, so we don’t look so boring.”

“I’m right behind you, Princess.”

 

Once they’ve blended nicely into the crowd of dancing couples, Bellamy puts an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She places a hand on his shoulder while the fingers of her free one easily lace with his. Somehow, they always fit together like they were molded to hold on in the midst of war and chaos.

Taking the first step, Bellamy puts them into motion, and everything that surrounds them slowly fades, as the only thing that they can hear is the sound of the music, to which their hearts beat in synch.

 

_Time stands still_

_Beauty in all she is_

_I will be brave_

_I will not let anything take away_

_What's standing in front of me_

_Every breath_

_Every hour has come to this_

Pressing his face into the crook of her neck, Bellamy lets his hand slide up her spine, successfully creating goosebumps on every inch of skin that it passes. Sighing, Clarke retaliates by moving her fingertips through his hair, which pulls him back to where their eyes connect. In this moment, it is surprisingly easy to forget everything that attempts to darken their world by filling it with the hopelessness of dreams that won’t come true.

This dance seems like one of those, but Clarke banishes the cruel thought of that from her mind.

 

_I have died every day waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid._

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_… I'll love you for a thousand more_

 

The song ends with violin strings that have him looking at her like he’s dying to break a million unwritten rules, his face inches from hers and his brown eyes half-lidded as they drop to her lips. It takes her breath away, making her crave him as if he’s oxygen. Leaning up slightly, Clarke kisses the corner of his mouth, and upon pulling back, she watches bewilderedness seeps into his features. For one, intense moment, she believes that he’s going to take it a step further, but then the surprise turns into a rare kind of sadness that causes him to pull at her hand. “Come with me,” he whispers before looking over his shoulder to find everyone else too preoccupied to notice their absence. 

If it weren’t for the strangled edge to those words, Clarke would feel differently while walking into the woods with him. Heck, she would feel victorious as he gently pushes her against the first tree they came across, but instead she feels her heart breaking a little more with every second that passes. 

“I’m sorry--I shouldn’t have done that. God, I feel so _stupid_ ,” she starts, yet Bellamy places his hand on the side of her face and his calloused thumb slowly starts to caress her cheekbone.

“You’re not. You’re just terrified, in desperate need of comfort. If a kiss is all it takes for you to find that, I’ll give it to you… But--“

“Bellamy, you don’t understand, do you?”

“What?” 

Exhaling, Clarke can feel the words on her tongue, their taste an unfamiliar kind of sweet, and still she doubts that she’ll be able to say them. Maybe they won’t sound right; maybe they will be spoken too soon, or somehow misunderstood.

She’s not ready - Not yet, and it pains her. 

That’s why she has to close her eyes when she says: “Nevermind.” 

“Clarke…”

 “I’m sorry for trying to kiss you. It won’t happen again… Can we please go back now?”

 

* * *

 

They spend the next hour with their friends, laughing as if all of the things unsaid don’t cling to the air between them, making it heavy with questions. Glancing at Bellamy, Clarke tries to forget what happened, because she wants nothing more than for the sadness to leave her bones. After all, tonight’s supposed to be a celebration: A reminder of how far they’ve come, how long they’ve survived. 

“What’s going on, Griffin?” Raven questions, noticing her friend’s lack of enjoyment, and the fact that she doesn’t immediately get a reply simply causes her to add: “Is there trouble in Paradise?” This could easily be interpreted as rude, but there’s a significant edge of worry to her voice, so Clarke lets it slide, murmuring: “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Have you had anything to drink at all?”

Before Clarke has the chance to protest, Raven has called Jasper over who is carrying a giant flask of the alcohol that she absolutely _dreads._ And that’s with good reason, because as soon as the strong smell meets her nostrils, nausea hits and she hardly has the time to walk a few feet to a nearby tree before it overpowers her. 

She recognizes the feeling of Bellamy’s hands touching her even if she can’t see him. That’s how she’s certain that it’s him who’s there a second later, pulling her hair back and rubbing soothing circles on her spine. Straightening up, she senses about a hundred eyes glued to her, and it’s difficult not to focus on it as Bellamy gently turns her around. “Are you okay?” 

At his question, she nods while accepting the glass of water he quickly pours for her. The feeling of the cool liquid soothes her burning throat, and after having downed it gratefully, Clarke’s as ready as she can be to face the suspicious looks on her friends’ faces. 

Surprisingly, Harper is the first to speak: “What just happened?” 

After having exchanged a lingering look with Bellamy, Clarke tries to lie: “It’s nothing,” but she knows how weak it is, and therefore can’t be surprised when Jasper protests: 

“You two always hide things from us. You act like we’re not entitled to know what’s going on.”

At that, Bellamy moves from Clarke in order to close in on Jasper who seems to lose some of the alcohol-induced confidence quickly. “Listen,” he begins, his dark eyes narrowing. “This has _nothing_ to with leadership or politics. It has nothing to do with _any of you_ , so will you please just--“ 

Her voice unsteady, Clarke stops him: “Bellamy… They’re going to find out sooner or later anyway, and I’m so tired of acting like it doesn’t affect me… Do you mind if I tell them?”

She knows that he most likely doesn’t - that he was simply trying to protect her in case she wasn’t ready to admit it. Maybe she should indeed wait until she’s fully accustomed, but at the same time she’s not sure that that will ever really happen. Upon shaking his head in response to her question, Bellamy walks away from Jasper to be by her side for support. 

Feeling exhaustion seep into her bones, Clarke doesn’t even try to sound strong as she speaks: “The truth is… I feel like _shit_. I’m constantly tired, my whole body aches, I’m nauseous and my emotions are absolutely ridiculous, because _I’m pregnant_.” 

Nearly choking on a sob, Clarke forces herself to look at everyone. Suddenly, they’re all silent and the only sound that can be heard for a long minute is that of the crackling fire behind them. Next to wide-eyed and jaw-slacked Jasper, Monty is the first person to say something: “Pregnant? How is that even possible?” 

Suddenly, Clarke is hit by a strong want to burst into fake laughter, but she manages to suppress it. “I had sex and my implant failed,” usually, she wouldn’t think of being so blunt, but all that she wants to do is sleep, put this day behind her, and that leaves no time for long, unnecessary explanations.   

“But who’s the father?” Murphy then counters, since Emori and him have just joined the party. For the most part, the two of them hang out alone, and until this moment tonight hadn’t been any different. 

“You’re not seriously asking that question,” Bellamy replies, his tone of voice happening to give away the answer and shut Murphy up at the same time.

For a few, intense moments, no one says anything. Instead, Bellamy and Clarke face the looks of their friends once again. Finally, Miller breaks the awkwardness by asking: “What are you going to do?” 

“We don’t know. For now, we’re just taking one day at a time.” 

Although that reply is clearly not enough for Miller, he doesn’t question anything further, and surprisingly the others choose to follow his example, yet there’s no telling how long that will last. Most likely, she will be interrogated on the subject tomorrow, and the mere possibility of it makes her feel even more tired than she already is.

Once they’re left alone, Bellamy puts his arm around Clarke’s tense shoulders, to which she responds by wrapping an arm around his waist, and they walk out of the gate like this, heading towards his cabin.

  

On the bed, while playing with a stray curl that keeps falling onto his forehead, she has to ask: “Bellamy, about earlier… Are we okay?”

Fighting to keep his eyes open despite her soft touch, he replies: “Of course we are.”

Although his honest words manage to calm her, she still feels the desire to kiss him burning like a small spark, lightening up the dark pit of her stomach _. Three weeks without the sensation of his lips against hers seems to have left her feeling weirdly cold._

And he always knows what she’s thinking. “You still want it, right?” 

“What I want doesn’t matter as long as you’re not comfortable with it.” 

The atmosphere turns heavy, making Bellamy swallow and narrow the space between them by pressing their foreheads together. “Clarke Griffin, you do _not_ make me uncomfortable,” the echo of those words almost take her more by surprise than the kiss, and that says a lot, because his lips capturing hers causes a low gasp to hitch in her throat. It has her shaking with desire, goosebumps forming on every inch of her body as electricity courses through her veins. 

As the tip of his tongue joins the game, Clarke forgets everything about wanting to sleep, and she pulls off his shirt in one swift motion. Meanwhile, his warm hands sneak underneath hers, traveling up her spine to set it on fire. “You understand?” He breathes hotly against the skin of her neck, and for the first time in forever, she actually _laughs._

“Screw you.”

“Patience, Princess.”

With those words, he moves down her body and presses an open-mouthed-kiss to her bare inner thigh that makes her shutter. Closing her eyes, Clarke feels her mind slowly go into a state of oblivion - and suddenly, the only thing that is left in the world is him: his hands, his mouth, his laugh lingering on her skin… 

_It makes her forget that life is overwhelming._

_Even if just for a while…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! comments and kudos are always deeply appreciated :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter features a part from bellamy's perspective :) i don't know how much that will happen in the future, though, because i find him more difficult to write. this was so necessary, though, because he had an important choice to make. i hope y'all like it!

It takes her a few seconds to fully realize - _remember_ what happened. Upon opening her eyes, Clarke finds that her muscles are free from strain, which is a sensation that she never thought she’d ever feel again. Then, she notices how the thin sheets hug her bare skin, causing her to recall why relaxation seems to have found a home within her body. Her jaw slacking, Clarke’s eyes dart to Bellamy who is on his back next to her, his dazzling figure splayed on top of the covers.

_Shit. They really did it._

Suddenly, without having any idea why, she has to fight back the tears that gather behind her eyelids. To do so, she exhales slowly, but it emerges raggedly and Bellamy, being the incredibly light sleeper that he is, is torn from his blissful rest at once. 

“Good morning,” is all he says, although there’s some sort of wariness sticking to the edge of his voice. Ultimately, it’s probably because he’s developed the unbelievable ability to recognize her most hidden emotions, but maybe that’s what happens when you have left a permanent print on someone’s heart over time. 

Worrying her lower lip, Clarke shifts to face him: His expressive, dark brown eyes and the smear of freckles on his cheeks that appear more opaque in the light of the morning sun.

“We had sex last night,” she tells him without knowing why. They’ve never talked about what drives them to sleep together, almost as if all of the reasons are evident, yet this time Clarke acknowledges that there’s something else - something new that she can’t pinpoint. 

“I’m aware of that,” Bellamy replies as a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. Smoothly, he moves his hand under her hair, letting it rest by the back of her neck. “Any regrets?” With that, his thumb draws a fragile line from the curve of her bottom lip to her chin. She shakes her head in immediate response to his question before breathing, “No, I just…“ 

“You thought that we’d be more hesitant about sex because you’re pregnant,” even though it’s been five days since they found out, _that_ word is one that’s always followed by a long pause. Each time, Clarke hopes that it’ll really sink in, but so far it hasn’t failed to startle them both. They should have accustomed to it by now, right?

“Well… Yeah.”

“So did I.” 

After that, they simply lie there in silence for a while, defying the reality of having to get out of bed. Forgetting about the routine of everyday is easy when they’re caught in their sunrise bubble, surrounded by comfortable, soft furs and each other. While gently caressing his cheek, Clarke understands that she can’t think of anything about the past night that she regrets. It’s not like she ever regrets sleeping with him, but this time it would be sort of natural for her to feel weird. She doesn’t, because all that she’s able to focus on is how the tension has seeped from her entire body and the nausea hasn’t hit either.

In a way, being with him is the best form of stress-relief. However, it is so much more and she knows that no matter how much she wouldn’t want to admit it. “When is your guard shift today?” 

“In a few hours… Why?” He replies, wiggling his eyebrows at the subtle hint in her voice. 

Honestly, she doesn’t even understand how the thought has made its way into her head, creating a show of colorful fireworks that go off within her stomach - it has never crossed her mind before, but suddenly she wants it more than anything, “How about a shower?” Drawing patterns on his shoulder with her fingertip, Clarke’s gaze drops so that he hopefully doesn’t notice her cheeks burning a familiar shade of pink. 

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” Bellamy jokes, and he can’t suppress the satisfied grin that soon lights up his entire face. The mere sight of it causes the nervousness she had been feeling to evaporate like smoke into air.

 

For the past three months, Bellamy and Clarke’s relationship has been strictly partnership with a generous dose of mind-blowing sex, because that’s the only thing that seemed to make sense. In a world where death (even despite all of the improvements) lurks around the corner, they have never believed anything else could work: Things like overwhelming intimacy just haven’t been able to fit in their schedule of forming a city.

Now, _everything’s_ different for some reason and Clarke only realizes that when she’s standing in the shower, sighing as Bellamy rubs homemade soap onto the skin of her back. The space is limited, barely allowing an inch of space between their bodies, and the fact that Clarke can feel his hot breath colliding with the back of her neck has chills running through her like electricity. 

As he turns on the water, she decides to face him, forcing her eyes to stay focused on his so that they won’t start to trail downward. His hands cradle her face when the spray hits and she finds them much warmer than the water, her lips parting slightly at the sensation. Because they’re standing so close, she can feel him grinning while he runs his fingertips through the tangled waves of her hair to drive the shampoo out. The tips of their noses graze and their eyes are still locked, intensifying the intimacy until she can feel her heart swell a little more with every beat. Without thinking, she wraps her arm around his waist, allowing her hand to travel along his spine.

“Clarke…” He murmurs, his voice a rare kind of wrecked before he narrows the space between them until his breath ghosts over her parted lips. For a moment, their lips just tremble, as if they wonder who has the guts to move first, to cut through the thick tension. But in the end, it doesn’t happen despite her blown pupils and his ragged breath. Instead, her head simply falls to his broad shoulder where it rests until she’s somewhat convinced that she won’t burst into tears. When she finally looks at him again, he searches her eyes for a moment before placing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

While she’s putting on her shirt, she can sense Bellamy’s eyes on her, but it’s not the expected look of lust that they wear; instead, it’s one of wonder, “You look as if you want to say something to me,” he begins carefully and she bites her lower lip, because he’s always so fucking right. 

“I was thinking of asking my mother for an ultrasound today. We have the machine, and…” 

“You’re worried,” he finishes, watching her nod in response, “when’s the end of your mother’s shift?” 

“Probably around 6.” 

“Okay, I’ll be there,” upon saying that, he walks to her, seriousness affecting the glow within his eyes in a way, which actually softens them. Therefore, it’s hard to protest especially when she doesn’t really want to.

“Bellamy, you have a guard shift.”

 “Not anymore, I haven’t.”

With that, he places a lingering kiss to the skin of her cheek that is still slightly flushed, colored by a subtle pink tint. It’s impossible for her not to smile as she moves some damp curls from his forehead once he has pulled away. _They just showered together_ , and the drops of water that cling to the skin close to his ear is evidence of that. Minutes ago, they were standing an inch from each other, breathing the same air, which is not a new phenomenon, even though it felt like it was, her heart put to a still until it realized that they weren’t going to kiss.

 _Damn it. Damn the hormones,_ if she can blame them at this point.

Cracking a smile, Bellamy momentarily places his hands on her shoulders before he heads out, leaving her to gaze after him.

 

* * *

 

Aside from the fact that her mother spends every second watching over her like a hawk, Clarke’s shift in medical is pretty relaxed. Maybe it’s because she miraculously hasn’t been nauseous this morning, which leaves more energy for her to focus on other things, such as nearly tearing up while stitching up a five-year-old boy who fell while playing soccer.

“There you go, Tommy,” she says, trying to hide the fact that she feels utterly ridiculous, as tears seem to gather within her throat. 

There are no more than forty young kids in Arkadia, so naturally everyone is incredibly protective of them, but Bellamy certainly outdoes all when it comes to making sure that these kids stay a considerable distance from the real dangers of Earth. Mostly, he keeps them from going into the woods by teaching them about history and strategy, which often manages to keep them busy until they run towards the small playground for a break.

Whenever they feel like they have some spare time, Raven and Monty like to design toys that they can create from materials that are to no use otherwise: At the end of the day, their small community is slowly becoming a place that is child-friendly, but Clarke still feels her heart quiver quivers in fear because once you walk past the walls of Arkadia, the true horrors of this planet start to show… _How will a child ever have a gentle beginning here?_

When her break starts, Clarke finds Raven standing outside wearing her standard serious expression, which almost causes her to stop right there. “Lunch?” The mechanic asks, opening her leather backpack to pull out three big apples, and Clarke would’ve cracked a smile if she hadn’t already understood the reason for her friend’s offer.

Once they’re seated in front of the fire, Raven passes her the biggest green apple along with a question, “you’re not staying in your tent anymore?” 

Taking a bite, tasting the lovely sweetness of the apple, Clarke shakes her head before she replies, “No. I’m staying in Bellamy’s cabin, because…” 

“… Because you’re pregnant with his baby.” 

At that, Clarke swallows too fast, which nearly has her choking. Something like this would normally kill her appetite, but now her stomach is rumbling despite it, so she hurries to take another small bite. “Yeah, that’s why,” it technically is, since she doesn’t know if they would’ve ever made the decision to share sleeping space if she had not been pregnant. Nonetheless, upon having shared a cabin with him for almost a week, the situation doesn’t feel like sheer convenience.

“And this happened how?”

“We started sleeping together about three months ago. I guess we were mostly using sex for unwinding-purposes, but of course those things have consequences, especially down here. Now, I’m pregnant and terrified because I have no way to know if everything’s okay or if there’s anything to worry about,” fighting to stay calm, Clarke senses how Raven’s eyes are focused on her - can even picture how her eyebrows knit together in concern. They know each other that well, and if there’s anyone that she doesn’t have to hide her worries in front of, it’s Raven: The girl who combatted ALIE with her glorious brain cells and who constantly figures out new ways to ensure the survival of their people.

They’d all be lost without her, which is something that they’ve known for a while… 

“I can’t relate to your situation for obvious reasons, Clarke, but I will tell you that I think it’s best if you try not to get too attached,” with that, Raven apparently notes that Clarke has finished the apple because she quickly grabs another, handing it to her while sporting an expression that clearly reads ‘ _eat’._

“I know, and I’m trying not to, but it’s hard… It’s hard when you deeply care about a person, and you’re carrying their child -- It’s just… It’s--“ 

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Raven silently tells her that it’s okay if she can’t finish that sentence for whatever reason, and honestly it’s a relief that she doesn’t have to try to make sense of the mess of emotions that she’s feeling right now. They’ve all jumbled up into a ball inside her mind, impossible to untangle - especially when she hasn’t had the time to process anything properly yet _. Maybe the ultrasound later will help with that…_

“How’s Bellamy taking it?”

At Raven’s question, Clarke’s eyes immediately dart across Arkadia to look for him as if they have been programmed to do so every time someone mentions his name. When she doesn’t find him by the gate, she concludes that he must’ve finally finished his shift and gone back to the cabin.

“Not too well… I mean, he’s amazing, but you know him… He constantly feels guilty and puts on a brave face thinking that he has to suppress his feelings about this for my sake. I’ve told him that that’s not how it works, but he doesn’t really listen to me.”

Signing, Raven rolls her eyes, “Yep, that sounds like Bellamy.” 

Because that’s literally who he is: A man whose selflessness has mixed with the blood in his veins; it flows underneath his skin and strengthens every layer of him at times when it doesn’t bring the loathing, which makes him bite his teeth through pain and forget that his life matters. 

If only he’d realize that he deserves so much better than he thinks… 

“You’ll figure it out,” with those comforting words, Raven offers a small smile before walking towards Miller who is absent-mindedly kicking some dust by the gate. Glancing over her shoulder, Clarke watches them as they meet with a passionate high-five and finds herself grinning at it.

_At least her people are going strong._

* * *

 

Sometimes, the wonders of Earth get lost in all of the previous tragedy, and Clarke forgets that the feeling of sunshine on her face is something that usually cheers her up, she forgets to look at the sky once the stars come out, and ignore the scent of the early evening as if it doesn’t have the power to make her relax: It’s pine in the breeze and fire calmly crackling nearby - the simplest things, but they manage to make her a little less nervous as she walks up to Bellamy who is standing by the tailoring station instead of by the gate where his evening shift started a few minutes ago.

“My mother agreed,” she breathes, and he swallows, which is a nervous action that he clearly doesn’t mean for her to notice. In attempt to cover up, he carefully reaches for her hand, grazing her fingertips.

“Let’s go…” 

Walking into medical while knowing you’re there for an ultrasound happens to be extremely uncomfortable: Suddenly, Clarke feels as if she no longer knows the place, like the colors of the walls changed along with the atmosphere, and nothing about this room feels blissfully familiar anymore.

Her mother, too, appears uncomfortable underneath the professional mask, since she worries her lip as they walk to her. Obviously, this is inevitable because they all wish that they didn’t have to be there, but as soon as Clarke is on the table, Abby Griffin takes the wheel, suppressing any form of nervousness, which - of course - allows Bellamy and Clarke to feel it even more.

When Abby puts the gel on her stomach, Clarke closes her eyes and reminds herself to breathe. Noticing her reaction, Bellamy takes her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Honestly, it feels as if an eternity passes before her mother finally stops searching. “There’s the baby…” She says, causing Clarke to twist her head to look at the screen. Although it takes her a while, she finds the gray, blurry dot, and the amount of relief that washes over her is overwhelming. Next to her, Bellamy’s also speechless, his lips parted slightly and he blinks a few times in disbelief. 

“Want to hear the heartbeat?” Abby asks, but doesn’t really allow much time for an answer because she most likely has guessed it - instead, she presses a button that makes the steady sound of a small heartbeat to fill the room. Running her thumb along Bellamy’s knuckles, Clarke feels her throat tighten around tears for a few moments until they show in her eyes. She tries to blink them away, aware that she’s not going to succeed in hiding the reaction, but Bellamy only runs a hand through her hair.

“I’ll get the measurements, which will give us a much more precise indication of how far long you are,” Abby says, her voice sort of unsteady and since there could be a million different reasons for that, Clarke’s not sure why. “Nearly an inch, which indicates that you’re not seven weeks pregnant - but nine.”

 _Nine weeks._ During the moments in which Abby takes another blood test and turns the ultrasound machine off, Bellamy and Clarke just look at each other, thinking back. Once Abby has left them alone in the room, he speaks first, “Nine weeks… That was before my latest mission.”

Realizing that he’s still holding her hand, Clarke gives his a reassuring squeeze, “Bellamy, maybe it happened after…” 

“No, it didn’t. I was injured, remember? You stitched me up yourself, and we didn’t have sex for at least five days because you insisted that I needed to rest,” despite the seriousness of his tone, he swallows nervously. Then, he releases a ragged breath before continuing, “Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come back from that mission alive? If I had died unaware that I’d gotten you pregnant before I left?”

Feeling her heart break a little, Clarke replies, “But Bellamy, you didn’t die…”

“I could have,” although it sounds brutal, she knows it’s the truth. He’d been shot by a guard in a small Azgeda village that didn’t appreciate The Sky People’s importance to the new coalition, and the bullet had missed his heart by two inches. If Miller and Kane had spent just a little more time bringing him back to Arkadia, he’d probably be dead, which is a thought that never ceases to terrify her, so she mostly avoids remembering it. The two hours in which he was in surgery had been the most stressful ones she’d endured, as she spent most of them fighting the urge to cry, scream and lose it completely. 

“We’re doing this together. That’s what matters,” Clarke breathes, taking the hand that he offers to help her down, “I’m pregnant. It’s real, but so are we, right?” Upon adding that, she looks deeply into his eyes until he manages a smile. 

“We are.”

 

* * *

 

The sound of the heartbeat is a fresh memory at the back of Bellamy’s mind as he finds Kane in the chancellor’s office, looking at one of the maps that Clarke is currently working on - the one of the woods near Polis. At the sight of him in the doorway, Kane smiles a little, pushing the map away. “Are you here to discuss the mission?” He then asks as if he’s completely certain he knows the answer, but he really doesn’t. 

“No,” Bellamy replies, “I came to give you this,” with that, he places his beloved handgun on the table while his facial expression is so determined that it causes Kane to look at him in confusion. “I’m leaving service.”

In spite of those words, Kane still looks like he doesn’t fully understand, his eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?”

“I’ve decided to take a step back,” Bellamy explains, running a hand through his messy hair, but when Kane asks why, it hits him that he _doesn’t know. How on Earth doesn’t he know?_ Because although Arkadia has expanded a lot over the last two years, it’s still considerably small and word seems to travel really fast. Apparently, his friends do understand when to be quiet, and even though he’s grateful for that, he didn’t expect having to inform Kane about the entire situation - especially not when he seems to be very close with Abby… 

“I thought Abby told you…” 

Now, the anxiousness starts to make its way to Kane’s facial features, “Told me what, Bellamy?” 

Clenching his jaw, Bellamy briefly squeezes his eyes shot, trying to think of ways to say this smoothly, but in the end he decides that sugarcoating the truth isn’t really worth the struggle, “That I got her daughter pregnant,” exhaling, he does his best to hide just how uncomfortable those words make him. To his surprise, Kane doesn’t respond. Instead, he simply sits there as if struggling to grasp what he was just told. 

Therefore, Bellamy decides to get it over with, “I’m not going on the next mission. In fact, I won’t be going for a long time, because I can’t put my life on the line anymore. Not when Clarke needs me, when she wakes up during the night thinking I’m dead - not when my unborn child needs me… I understand that I have a duty when it comes to my people, and I’ll do what I can to help you find other volunteers for the mission, but I won’t be going. I have a responsibility that I think is much more important right now: to ensure that my child will have a father.”

It’s undoubtedly a lot of information for Kane to process, because all that he says is, “okay, that’s…”

“I’ll still work my guard shifts if I have your permission.” 

“Bellamy, you’re a part of the elected guard. You don’t need my permission.” 

Nodding slowly, Bellamy turns around to leave, but Kane stops him by saying, “You made the right choice.” 

Even though he’s grateful for the support, Bellamy doesn’t think that there was any choice to be made - at least not in his mind. He grew up without a father, which is not something that he’d thought much about until he found out that Clarke was pregnant - until he heard the heartbeat a few hours ago. Somehow, that has made him understand how much he wants _his_ child to have one.

 

* * *

 

Clarke’s sitting on the bed - _no, their bed -_ in the cabin when he returns, unable to forget the sound of the heartbeat; the most beautiful rhythm she’d heard in a very long time, but it’s also causing her mind to spur in a thousand different directions. She doesn’t know how to feel anymore… 

Finally looking at him, she notices the barely readable look in Bellamy’s eyes as he stands in front of her, “Why the face?” She counters, and even though it sounds like she’s joking, her heart twists in brief worry at the moment before he replies, his voice matter-of-fact, “I left service.”

For a long moment, she simply stares at him, her jaw slacking; then his name emerges from her lips like a prayer, “Bellamy…” 

At that, he raises a hand to keep her from protesting if that is what she plans to do, “I can’t go out there, not anymore. Not when it’s far from certain that I will come back to what actually matters. I don’t want you to do this alone, and I sure as hell don’t want our child to grow up without a father.”

Standing up despite the tears that have appeared in her eyes suddenly, Clarke wraps her arms around him, her hand moving to the back of his head, burying itself within the messy curls of his hair, “So don’t tell me that I shouldn’t have done it,” he murmurs, his hands warm against the small of her back. Little does he know, she never wanted to protest, not for one second. Frankly, she allows her head to rest in the crook of his neck and breathes the words, “thank you,” with that, Clarke lets the hug last for a couple of sweet seconds more before she decides to pull back, meeting his intense, protective gaze.

And without really thinking, she kisses him. This time, not because she wants to get lost in the galaxies that are created when they take it to a bed, and not because the mess of emotions that are stuffed into her fragile heart are too much to handle without him. This time, she kisses him simply because she wants to.

That’s what she chooses to tell him when his hands start to play with the hem of her shirt. Pulling back, she looks deeply into his eyes to make sure that he understands the seriousness of what she’s about to say, “No, I just wanna kiss you… Is that okay?”

Bellamy blinks, clearly stunned, so he has to take a second to process it, “Sure…” _Why does he sound nervous?_ And why does she feel it, too, as she suddenly doesn’t know what to do with her hands, which are also beginning to tremble slightly. Turning her mind off, Clarke leans in again, and this time he meets her halfway, stealing her breath. It’s like she’s kissing him for the first time, exploring the skin at the back of his neck while her fingertips idly play with some of the dark brown curls there.

After a minute, Bellamy pulls back to stare at her in wonder as if he expects her to tear off his shirt at any given moment, but apparently her gaze succeeds in convincing him that that’s not going to happen, because he grins - even if only briefly - and kisses her again, his lips moving against hers more confidently than before, making her shutter. Strangely, it’s not sexual - just intimate, and Clarke questions if it could be a dream, but in the end the feeling of his hands moving up her back is too strong to be an illusion.

When the connection breaks, Clarke has no idea how long they kissed for - it could be minutes, hours, days even. All that she knows is that it has left her almost entirely speechless, “That was…”

Absent-mindedly licking his lips, Bellamy just nods, offering a small smile. However, once a few moments have passed, he seems to regret not doing more, since he presses a kiss to the sensitive spot beneath her jaw. 

“I think we both need sleep.” 

“Yeah, we do.” 

But Clarke doesn’t sleep that night, because she can’t stop thinking about the kiss, and the heartbeat and how everything seems ten times more complicated now. In the end, nothing’s solved. They still don’t know what the hell they’re going to do, and yet they’re trying to make sense of the darkness by fumbling through it, using each other as support. 

Honestly, all they can do is hope that the stars will line up in their favor soon to shine some light onto the surface of the earth, so they know where to start…


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of you have requested some light moments, so here *spices this chapter with a little fluff*

Clarke is already used to the feeling of waking up next to him every morning, the scent on his pillow and the sound of his relaxed breathing, which tempts her to stay in bed all day. After all, they don’t usually have much time to relish in the precious moments of utter calmness, because Earth simply doesn’t allow it. There’s always a meeting, a patient in medical or a guard shift - no time to kill within the only atmosphere that can be described as ‘soothing’, in the sheets of mellow sunrises and summer breeze.

She’s already used to his face being the first thing that her eyes fall upon once they’ve fluttered open. Frankly, the rare expression of peace that softens his facial features in the morning is most likely the sight that her eyes adore the most. Every time, her heart swells when she finds him there. Today, however, is an exception. She wakes up to cold, empty sheets beside her and the first feeling that hits her is _panic._ Why isn’t he here? He’s _always_ here. 

Getting out of bed, she notices his dark blue shirt on the floor and eyes it for a second before grabbing it: Its soft material feels wonderfully familiar between her fingertips and the smell embodies everything that gives her hope.

Unable to stop herself, Clarke puts it on, feeling it hug her like a blanket, welcoming her body. Barefoot, she walks out of the cabin and into the sunshine that comes through the treetops. Once her eyes have adjusted to the light, they are shocked to find Bellamy Blake sitting shirtless against a tree trunk in a spot where he can look out at the lake, which he conveniently has built the cabin next to. 

“Clarke…” As he spots her by the doorway in his t-shirt, a soft grin lights up his entire face, “Come and sit here,” he continues, patting the ground next to him. 

 _Why’d you leave bed?_ Although she wants to ask that, she realizes that she can’t because of how flustered she suddenly feels, a subtle pink blush making its way into her cheeks. Therefore, she simply walks over in silence, settling into his side and feeling how he instinctively wraps an arm around her waist, “I’m sorry I didn’t wake up with you,” he murmurs as she lets her head fall to his broad shoulder. Even though it’s not always beneficial, even though it sometimes creates problems, them being able to read each other’s minds does come in handy every once in a while.

“It’s okay. Did you take an early guard shift?” 

“Not only that. I met up with Nyko…” 

Well, that’s surely a surprise. Normally, it’s Clarke who has to talk to him for advice on natural medicine and nutrition. To ensure the survival of their people, she had to understand how the limited plantation on Earth could form the most balanced diet possible. She doesn’t really see what Bellamy… _Wait._

“He told me that _seaweed_ is a good supplement for pregnancy because it contains more vitamins than pretty much any other food down here, as well as sodium which is good for stabilizing blood pressure…” Bellamy says, biting the inside of his cheek and Clarke can’t help but smile, “Wow, you really did your homework.” 

At that, he beams, his dark brown eyes filling with sparks as they focus on her, and the grin on his face a rare kind of boyish, which she almost thought had been lost among the painful shadows. When she realizes that it’s not the case, she is awestruck. Suddenly, she wants to draw him like this, all young and bright.

“Of course I did. Now, do you fancy a trip to the beach, Princess?”

 

* * *

 

After eating breakfast, they take the rover for a long drive to the ocean. It’s been a while since they’ve gone there, but as far as Clarke recalls it was to talk to Luna about the newfound peace in Arkadia and how to make sure that it stayed. Also, they’d managed to learn some basic swimming and safety guidelines, because it might come in handy if they chose to expand Arkadia to the nearby lakes and rivers. Since then, the only person from Arkadia who has been going to the ocean frequently is none other than Raven, although she continuously denies it. Clarke is not fooled, though, knowing there must be a _very good_ explanation for how the mechanic often takes the rover for drives and doesn’t return for days at a time.

The only reasonable conclusion is that Raven has found herself a lover from Floukru with wild, curly hair and pretty brown eyes…

Feeling a smile curl the corners of her mouth, Clarke leans her head back, closing her eyes to the sound of the music from Maya’s old Ipod.

 

_Though the pressure's hard to take_

_It's the only way I can escape_

_It seems a heavy choice to make_

_And now I am under all_

_And it's breaking over me_

_A thousand miles down to the sea bed_

_Found the place to rest my head_

_Never let me go_

_Never let me go_

Although she learned to drive more than a year ago, she definitely prefers being in the passenger seat, relaxing and stealing more than a hundred glances of Bellamy, whose eyes are focused on the road ahead. Additionally, he is just a much better driver than her, his hands much more accustomed to the feeling of the steering wheel.

“You feeling okay today?” The sound of his voice breaking the silence has her eyes opening to look at the slightly worried expression within his gaze. To reassure him, she quickly nods before replying, “Yeah… The nausea’s not that bad today.”

“Headache?”

When she shakes her head, he smiles easily, “Good…” For a long moment, their eyes connect and Clarke suddenly remembers how amazing kissing him last night was, even if they’re not used to it. She wonders if there will ever be a time when they can be whatever they want to without having to worry about the consequences.

Heck, she has no idea what’s right anymore. Most of the time, looking into his eyes and feeling his lips against her own makes more sense than anything else on this godforsaken planet, but simultaneously they still live with the sound of a clock ticking at the back of their minds, worried that they don’t have enough time left.

Hopefully, the sweet meaningfulness of actually _living_ is something that they will eventually be granted, will deserve. Suddenly, Clarke becomes aware of her own fingertips as they brush the bottom of her stomach. _Maybe they don’t deserve to live, but the baby she’s carrying does._

“We’re here…” Bellamy’s voice breaks through her thoughts just before the subtle scent of the ocean does: salt drifting in the wind. 

As soon as they’re out of the rover, they are met by Luna who must’ve recognized the car from a distance. Walking up to them, the expression on her face is clearly one of surprise and she manages a confused smile, “I thought you were--“

“Raven,” Clarke finishes while a mischievous smile grows on her lips. Trying not to enjoy the blush that colors Luna’s cheeks at that, she finishes, “You’ll have to do with us today.”

Next to her, Bellamy has furrowed his eyebrows, which is natural given that he isn’t very good with gossip. An example of that is how he had no idea that Jasper had made out with a girl from the Trikru village near Arkadia until it was casually mentioned as they were standing by the fire on Unity Day.

“What do you need?” Luna asks as a little girl comes running to hug her legs. 

“Is there somewhere we can talk in private?” At Bellamy’s question, the look in Luna’s eyes becomes serious. Then, she sends the girl away with a gentle caress to the top of her head and leads Bellamy and Clarke into one of the tents that Floukru have set up on the beach.

“What’s going on?” Luna asks again once they’re inside, facing them with a worried expression. Undoubtedly, she thinks that this has something to do with the coalition, since they’d promised to tell her if anything was wrong. It had taken them some time to earn her trust back after they took down ALIE, but once they had, Luna agreed to support them as much as she could. 

“We’re here for seaweed." 

At that, Luna arches an eyebrow, “What do you need it for?”

Worrying her lower lip, Clarke shares a look with Bellamy that tells him she’s going to explain this one, “I’m pregnant,” exhaling those words, she watches the expression on Luna’s face change completely, but it doesn’t become less worried. In fact, she appears frightened for them, her brown eyes having widened a little.

Clarke doesn’t expect Luna to do anything but tell them that they’re allowed to take what they need, so she’s surprised when she sits down next to them on the ground and begins to speak, “I’ll tell my sister to give you all of the seaweed you need. We’ve dealt with pregnancy among my people before… If there’s anything you want to know, please ask.” 

Although Clarke’s far from sure that she wants to know the answer, she hears herself asking, “How many of the babies have made it?”

Bellamy swallows hard, inching closer to place his hand on hers. For a long moment, they watch Luna in silence as she fidgets with the edge of her sleeve, “Ten… Out of 21.” 

The reply manages to steal all of the air from Clarke’s lungs as she can do nothing but stare blankly ahead, her mind having been left numb by those merciless numbers. Struggling to think clearly while Bellamy squeezes her hand, she tries to be rational and convince herself that their chances are better because they have more equipment. Not long passes before she realizes that she can’t make herself feel better, and sadness settles within her body.

“You can stay here for the night if you want to, talk to Adelaide who’s pregnant, too.”

“Thank you, Luna.”

Even though Luna tells them that she can get someone to collect the fresh seaweed for them, Bellamy and Clarke insist on doing it themselves. After all, they haven’t felt the calmness of the soft waves in several months, and maybe that’s what they need to forget every possible bad outcome that could hit at any given moment.

 

“You think you’ll talk to Adelaide?” Bellamy asks while taking off his shirt. Worrying her lower lip for a moment, Clarke thinks it through but comes up with no valid reasons why she shouldn’t, so she nods in response.

Carefully, Bellamy walks to the water’s edge and Clarke watches him wince a little as the first calm wave rolls in. Barely holding back a chuckle as he says, “It’s a bit cold,” Clarke joins him, holding out a hand for him to hold. Immediately, he intertwines their fingers and exchanges a look with her before they head into the ocean. 

It’s not difficult to collect the fresh seaweed in the nets that Luna gave them, and after about five minutes they have gathered enough of it to last many weeks. “Why don’t you take your shirt off, Clarke? Enjoy the water against your skin…” Bellamy says once he’s back by her side after bringing the last net to the shore. 

“It’s fine,” once that reply has left her lips, Clarke realizes how unconvincing it is and knowing Bellamy, she’s not surprised when he instantly reacts to it. 

“Come here…”

When she has walked to him, he lets his fingertips tangle within the golden waves of her hair, looking deeply into her blue eyes. A moment later, he seems to have found an answer or an explanation that she doesn’t have the knowledge to express using words, because his hands drop to the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. Then, he simply drops it into the water. 

“Tell me exactly what this is about…” He breathes against her ear while his hand cradles the back of her head. Finding comfort in his touch, Clarke inhales the scent of the saltwater from his skin. 

“I noticed this morning when I took off my shirt to put on yours… I’m starting to show.”

Upon letting a moment pass, Bellamy presses a kiss into Clarke’s hair and one to her cheek as if he’s aware that it’s that kind of comfort she so desperately needs right now. Closing her eyes, she wraps her arms around him as the waves sweep around them. “It’s good, Clarke… It’s all good. It means that you’re gaining some weight and that the baby’s growing.”

Smiling a little against the skin of his shoulder, she’s thankful for those words. Not because they tell her something she doesn’t already know, but because he’s using them to remind her that she shouldn’t feel uncomfortable. In the end, it’s a good kind of change, which they’re not really used to. Maybe that’s why it feels weird…

 

* * *

 

As the sun sets, Clarke is sitting in front of the fire on the beach, wrapped in a blanket and warming her hands against a cup of soothing tea. They just ate freshly-caught fish for dinner, which is a meal that they only have the luxury of eating maybe once every second week in Arkadia because the ocean is a little too far away. While Bellamy radios the camp to let people know that they’re staying for the night, Clarke watches the waves that are still unbelievably calm, now painted in a purplish-blue shade by the setting sun.

“Mind if I sit down?” The sound of woman’s voice behind her causes Clarke to shift her attention from the sea. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes fall on a young woman whose light brown hair is bound in a thick, beautiful braid.

Shaking her head, Clarke offers the woman a smile, and she thankfully returns it before settling to warm her palms in front of the flames. Glancing at the woman’s figure, it doesn’t take Clarke long to notice the bump on her stomach: One that is much bigger than hers…

“Adelaide, right?” She tries carefully and the woman nods with a smile, which only shines through her hazel eyes.

“I’m Clarke…” At that, she has Adelaide’s full attention and that is probably because most grounders - although they recognize her easily - merely know her by the title ‘Wanheda’: A title that she hasn’t been reminded of in a while, but still she can’t imagine never being associated with again. It’s something that will always be carved into her soul, no matter how many lives she saves; no matter if she brings one into this world, “I’m pregnant, too…” 

“How long?” Is all Adelaide asks after looking at her for a moment. 

“Nine weeks,” 

Eyes fixated on the flames now, the corners of Adelaide’s mouth are slowly pulled into a soft smile and Clarke finds it slightly contagious in spite of everything, “Just wait ‘til you get to twenty-two.”

Honestly, Clarke’s confused as to why in the world she would say that, but the other woman soon elaborates, “There’s so much you haven’t experienced yet. The first thirteen weeks are very tough yet once you’ve pulled through those, the miracle starts to dawn on you.”

“Miracle?” 

“Yes… There are kicks, somersaults, hiccups - little things that make everything else seem so worth it. It might not seem true right now, but pregnancy’s a beautiful experience that can’t be compared to anything else in this world. Sunsets, waterfalls, rainbows… None of it compares. That’s a miracle.” 

Looking away for a moment, Clarke notices Bellamy in the distance, and the fraction of a second passes before their gazes have met like magnets. Even from afar, the connection is powerful, but the distance brings a certain edge of longing to it.

Having followed her line of vision, Adelaide breaks the silence, “Your lover?” 

“Bellamy Blake… The baby’s father,” Clarke replies slowly, refusing to take her eyes off him. Next to her, Adelaide smiles once more before she says, “Cherish him.” 

Until she turns her attention and catches a glimpse of Adelaide’s sad expression as her hand rests on her stomach, Clarke wants to question why she said that. However, the sight changes her mind immediately, having dismissed all of the wonder. Even though she’s just about to say that there’s no need for an explanation, Adelaide looks at her, offering it anyway, “The father of my three children was killed two months ago.” 

Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, feeling tears sting within them like superfluous drops in an ocean that’s way too deep. Exhaling raggedly, she nods, fighting against the breaking heart in her chest to be able to say something, but it takes several seconds for her to win the battle and when she finally does, all that she can manage to whisper, her voice a thousand kinds of shattered is, “I’m so sorry.” 

“That doesn’t matter,” Adelaide replies, every word marked by seriousness, “What matters is that you understand how rare and wonderful it is to have someone with you through this.”

Swallowing, Clarke turns to look for Bellamy again, finding him in the same exact spot. A minute ago, her heart had been broken by the thought of losing him, of feeling him slip through her fingers, but now the pieces are swelling at how he watches out for her - it’s slowly mending, putting itself back together…

 

As soon as her and Adelaide part ways, Clarke walks to him as quickly as her feet will carry her, wrapping her arms and the blanket around him once she comes close enough to do so. It creates a breathtaking bubble of warmth, of safety, “Hey…” He murmurs into her hair, and she can feel him smile against the crown of her head. The soothing smell of smoke and saltwater from his jacket meets her nostrils. _You’re my favorite person,_ she thinks, _because you’re home._

Instead of saying that, Clarke rises to her tiptoes and kisses him, burying a hand within his hair. It’s an action that pulls a noise of mixed satisfaction and surprise from him, but in the end he deepens the kiss slightly, breathing her name like a prayer against her lips. Nevertheless, it only lasts for a couple of moments before he breaks away, burying his gentle smile in the crook of her neck. 

Once the stars have appeared on the night sky, Bellamy and Clarke are the only ones who have not yet settled by the fire because they’re sitting by the water’s edge, sharing a blanket and a pack of rations, “Is there anything we need to talk about?” He asks while handing her the last dried blueberry and she smiles, shaking her head. “No, why…?”

“Well, the kissing… It’s--“

“You know what this reminds me of? The first time we had sex.” 

At that, Bellamy groans, causing her to _laugh_. Because of this, he simply stares at for a minute, awestruck by the sound and the sight all at once, “Do not remind me of that conversation, Clarke.” 

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, Princess,” she says in an intentionally horrible impression of his sex voice, feeling the laughter bubble in her stomach as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before cracking a grin. What he does next is something she would have never expected: He reaches for her, not for a kiss or a hug but to tickle her until she can’t catch her breath, “Are you mocking me? Mocking my dirty talk? That’s so rude.”

She loses her balance from laughter, tumbling over in the soft sand that is still a little damp. Tears are rolling down her cheeks, but when she replies, the words are not fighting against sobs. Instead, they’re fighting her giggles, her happiness, “I like your dirty talk, I promise.”

At that, Bellamy stops tickling her, satisfied with her answer. Looking at him, Clarke feels the smile that’s widened, stretching across her face in a way that she didn’t think it could anymore. Above her, he’s smiling, too. Then, he drops a kiss to her neck, to her jawline, her cheek and the tip of her nose. Not really content from those ones, Clarke surges up, capturing his lips with her own.

They make out like that for a while, her fingertips resting at the back of his neck where chills have formed as his are placed by her temple. Then, he runs them along her cheekbone, apparently feeling something that causes him to pull away, “You’re getting cold,” he explains, “We should go back to the tent.”

  

Moonlight shines through the delicate, white fabric of the tent, leaving her ivory skin in a silvery glow as he exposes it. He continues the pattern of soft kisses that he left on the beach, placing his lips to her collarbone, her wrists and her ribs while folding a palm over her heart. Somehow, this time doesn’t feel like any other. Maybe that’s because making love is something they usually do out of need when the emotions that have settled within their souls threaten to break their spines. They’ve never actually done it because it feels right… 

“Clarke, you’re doing it again…” He breathes, his hand curling around her thigh, pulling it to an angle that he knows always draws a moan from her, “You’re crying.”

“I’m sorry,” clinging to his broad shoulders, Clarke attempts to make their eyes lock despite the darkness. Carefully, she rests her forehead against his to feel his breath mingle with hers. 

“Do you wanna stop?”

She hopes that he senses how she shakes her head because she’s too overwhelmed to utter any more words. To make sure that he understands, she allows her hand to travel down his back, internally counting the scars they are passed. Finally, she gathers the required focus to form a verbal response, “No, it’s all good.” 

Eventually, they bring each other over the edge and the blissful silence that follows is anything but empty, since it’s filled with gentle touches and smiles. Brushing a thumb across the corner of her mouth, Bellamy decides that he has to know something, “What did Adelaide tell you?”

Although she’d rather not talk about it, she knows deep down that it’s most likely best if she does, because she’s not interested in leaving him in the dark. If this is going to work, they have to trust one another, have to tell each other the truth even when it has the power to devastate them. Bellamy knows her better than she knows herself, especially emotionally. In times of stress, she does everything to tuck the sadness she’s feeling into a corner of her heart that’s barely ever touched, but Bellamy does it. All the damn time, reaches the chambers to fight the demons within them.

As the first tears breaks free from her eyes, he catches them with his fingertips. She exhales raggedly, inching closer until he wraps his arms around her, twisting a golden wave from her hair around his finger. It’s the kind of comfort that gives her the strength to carry on, “The father of her three children was killed two months ago…”

Adelaide’s words felt the same as the nightmare about the airlock, as they injected fear into her bloodstream: Now all that flows in her veins is the thought of losing him, of slowly forgetting what he sounds like during the early morning hours, what it is about his scent that chases the demons off her spine. 

“If I lost you, Bellamy…” She croaks, causing him to nuzzle her cheek.

Placing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth, Bellamy slips his hand under the thin sheets between their bodies and places a hand on her stomach. The mere feeling of it has her swallowing, her eyes widening a little, and she can determine from how careful his touch is that he’s trying to get used to the feeling as well, “We’re going to be fine,” he murmurs, kissing her and Clarke’s heart almost melts and breaks at the same time, because this is the first time she hears _that_ change in his voice. 

He’s not just talking about the two of them anymore. No… He’s talking about the _three_ of them.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had me considering if I should change the rating to 'explicit' but I guess it's still only semi-explicit, so I'm gonna leave it like this unless you guys tell me to change it. Also, brief warning: This chapter contains some graphic descriptions...

The next few weeks pass like her prayers in the wind, and soon enough she’s standing in front of the old mirror in the shower quarters, staring at her reflection: At how her hands are carefully splayed on the thirteen week bump, which adds a soft curve to the bottom of her stomach, at how her teeth graze her bottom lip in worry before she lets the fabric of her drop, cover her skin. Closing her eyes, Clarke takes a deep breath that emerges raggedly from her throat upon having been caged there for quite some time.

When she moves to braid her hair, she finds that her hands are trembling a little, so it ends up messier than she initially intended. Frowning, she gives the mirror one last, lingering glance before she walks into the sunlight of late August, and the atmosphere embraces her, the air smelling like sweet grass and those white flowers that grow in the ground.

Amazingly, the biggest concern she has right now is if there will be enough warm clothes ready before all of the leaves turn a golden kind of brown…

_Oh, yeah… And being pregnant._

Suddenly, the sight of Bellamy making his way towards her has a smile growing on her lips that forces the worried frown off her face. He’s smiling slightly, too, even if only through his eyes, but she knows him well enough to take that as a good sign.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Upon asking, he present a bowl of porridge to her and she is about to hesitate, but then he adds, “I snuck some extra pomegranate seeds in it for you.”

Chuckling briefly as she takes the meal from his hands, Clarke allows her fingertips to brush his arm. When she glances at them afterwards, she’s mildly surprised to find that there’s no stardust on them, because as he stands there in front of her, a flirtatious glint within his gaze, he shines brighter than the sun… And that’s not because anything drastic has changed between them - It’s who he is, the kind of wonderful glory he carries during times of happiness.

It’s amazing how much better the sloppy porridge made from nuts and water tastes when it’s mixed with something sweet - like berries. Six months ago, they’d travelled to unmapped territory and discovered a crowd of surviving fruit trees: Pomegranates, apples, peaches and plums. Immediately, Monty and Raven had seized the opportunity and snatched the seeds that could possibly be the key to start their own small plantation in Arkadia. Even if they’re still working on it, the chances seem better with each passing day and lately there has only been good news whenever Clarke has gone to talk to them about the progress. 

But for now, they have to pick the fruit from the trees that already exist.

On good nights, she dreams of a land colored by fields of vegetables and grain, of honey drizzled on smoky meat, of freshly-caught fish and clamps that still taste a bit like the ocean. The seaweed, however, doesn’t taste pleasant to say the least, which is mostly because of its weird texture and she probably wouldn’t eat it if she didn’t know how essential it is. Nevertheless, it helps that Bellamy eats it, too…

Once she’s finished the meal, she twirls the spoon between her fingers absent-mindedly while her eyes are focused blankly ahead.

“You nervous about the ultrasound today?” Bellamy asks, his voice gentle as the words pass his lips and she can only look at him for a prolonged moment, sighing as she finally nods. Going to the weekly check-ups never ceases to inject panic into her veins, yet the doses don’t become smaller - There’s always the stinging fear of not hearing the heartbeat again, of not being able to count the steady beats and feeling herself slowly calm down with each one. 

Clarke lets the silence rule the atmosphere between them for a while, wondering if what she wants to say actually makes sense. It probably doesn’t, but she finds that she has to tell him anyway, “I was relieved… When I threw up this morning… Actually _relieved_. That’s weird, right?” 

Looking at her with soft, earthy eyes, Bellamy reaches for her hand, brushing his fingertips over her palm, “No, I think it’s normal… At least given the circumstances.”

 _Given the circumstances…_ The circumstances being that the risk of a miscarriage is - at least according to her mother - thirty-five percent higher on a planet where there are limited treatment options if anything goes wrong. Knowing that, Clarke can’t help but feel frightened for Adelaide who doesn’t even have access to the small amount of equipment that they do. Frankly, not a day has passed without Clarke seriously considering bringing the woman here so that her baby has a better chance of survival.

All of the worry weighs not only on her heart, but also her mind, which doesn’t make her current headache any less painful. Squeezing her eyes shot from the pounding against the inside of her temples, Clarke lets her head fall onto Bellamy’s shoulder. Gently, he moves a golden wave of her hair back, exposing the skin near her ear that he begins to caress tenderly.

“Nyko told me that lavender oil helps soothe headaches,” he murmurs while thinking and Clarke feels the immediate need to say something to keep him _here;_ where’s he’s safe, sound, even happy, “Bellamy, it’s fine. You don’t have to go get any…” 

“You’re right, I don’t,” he admits, the lack of resistance confusing her briefly until he adds, “I talked to Harper last night. She said she was planning on making flower crowns in the meadow with some of the girls today, and I asked her to bring some lavender back.” 

 _Somehow, he’s always one step ahead._ Smiling to herself, Clarke remembers how he, once they started sleeping together, could tell exactly what she needed upon a single glance and a touch. Amazingly, this is apparently not exclusively a sex thing - No, it’s him understanding her feelings without her having to express them. Maybe she does that with him, too, but if she does, she’s not aware of it…

Scooting closer to cuddle against his side, Clarke presses her lips to his jawline, the sharpest edge of his face. Though it makes him smile, he still mutters, “There are people here…”

“I don’t care,” is all she replies, reaching for the rough fabric of his jacket before she closes the space between them with a gentle yet lingering kiss. As Bellamy responds by burying his hand within her hair, a shattering thought carves itself through Clarke’s mind: This is a man that she touches as much as she wants to, has sex with, kisses freely - he’s the father of her unborn child _goddammit_ , and she still can’t call him her boyfriend.

_The word doesn’t make sense down here._

Pulling back, she tries to mask how her heart has just sunk to the bottom of the ocean that is roaring within her ribcage, but she knows that it’s to no avail. 

“Are you thinking about the baby?” 

Instantly, her heart flutters, signaling that it hasn’t actually drowned. _The baby… He’s never said that before._ Or maybe he has, but it’s never carried quite the same meaning. Soft-eyed, Clarke looks at him, shaking her head in response. Instead of saying anything, she lets her head fall onto his shoulder, deciding to cherish this moment as long as it lasts, since she cannot save it in her pocket. 

“I have a shift,” he admits reluctantly once a couple of minutes have passed in peaceful silence and although she doesn’t want him to, she urges him to go. After all, the pregnancy hasn’t eliminated all of their other responsibilities. Clarke, too, has a shift at the medical bay in an hour. In the last two weeks, her mother has tried to push her to take some time off, but she has absolutely no idea how to do that - no idea how to fully relax when she knows that there is work to be done somewhere. It’s as if her mind has been twisted until it doesn’t function unless it’s constantly on overload.

But her mother’s probably right, because she usually is…

 

* * *

 

It’s a pretty quiet day in medical until a little girl named Emma comes in, tears rolling down her cheeks, which is understandable given that her arm is broken in two places. 

“What happened?” Clarke asks, her voice soft as she gently dries the girl’s face. Meanwhile, Abby prepares the best cast that they can make for broken limps with the limited materials that Mount Weather’s hospital ward has offered them. Sniffling, Emma simply looks down at her feet for a long moment until she gathers enough courage to speak, “The boys were teasing me so I wanted to prove them wrong by climbing a tree…”

Arching an eyebrow, Clarke replies, “You know that the woods are off limits, Emma. And besides, you don’t need to prove anything to those boys, okay? I bet you’re ten times tougher than all of them combined.”

Moving the hair out of her face, she gives Emma a smile, which is oddly paired with a disapproving look. While Abby puts the cast on the girl’s arm, Clarke is hit by a sudden wave of dizziness that has to be battled with water, which she shamefully doesn’t drink nearly enough of. Upon having turned around, Clarke discovers that she is currently the one who has a disapproving look aimed at her: One that comes from Abby…

“Sorry mom.”

“Clarke, you know how important--“

“Can we talk about this later?”

She knows how immature she’s being, although she can’t think of any specific reasons why because it’s as if her entire mind has been taken over by a thick type of fog that makes her feel instantly overwhelmed and disoriented. Worrying her lower lip, Clarke looks at her mother, hoping that her gaze will successfully convey the emotions that she can’t properly express by using words.                    

In the end, however, her mother doesn’t quite have the same ability as Bellamy, “I’ll give Emma some painkillers… Then you and I will talk at lunch.”

Suddenly, Emma’s curious voice breaks through the tense silence that follows her mother’s words, “Is this about the bump on your stomach?” 

Before her mother can reply, Clarke hurries, “Yes. I’m having a baby, I just… I haven’t really gotten used to the idea yet.” 

 _You better hurry the fuck up. It’s your responsibility_ , she tells herself, closing her eyes briefly before stammering, “I need some air.” 

But when she’s made it outside, she finds the atmosphere heavy in spite of the light blue, cloudless sky and she struggles to breathe normally as the world seems to spin a thousand times faster than it usual does, making the ground unsteady. Unable to regain her balance, Clarke slides down the side of the medical bay, hoping that the cool metal of the construction will help her mind reconnect with her body. Through her ragged breathing, Clarke senses tears burn within her eyes and she doesn’t currently posses the willpower that it takes to stop them from overflowing to race down her flaming cheeks. In the last couple of weeks, the merciless pain has been slowly making its way into her bones again, but right now it’s unbearable, finding an unwelcoming home inside her chest where it troubles her breathing further, and soon it isn’t air that emerges from her lungs… It’s just sobs. 

As she senses the presence of someone else, Clarke - being too exhausted to look up - expects it to be her mother. That’s until the person kneels down in front of her to wrap their arms around her. Those aren’t her mother’s arms, she realizes… _They’re Raven’s._

“Ssssh, it’s okay…” She murmurs, “Look at me, Clarke.”

Raven’s glove-covered hands are on her cheeks now, angling her face in a way, which ensures that her ocean blue eyes are looking into hers, “What’s going on?”

“It hurts,” struggling, Clarke holds onto her friend’s shoulder, “Everything hurts…” Upon saying those words, her voice trembling as much as her body, she watches the mechanic’s usually calm gaze widen in fear immediately, because although Clarke doesn’t say the words directly, they’re written all over her face. 

 _I think I’m having a miscarriage._  

“What do you need me to do?” 

“Just please find Bellamy.”

She’s off in a beat, running as quickly as the brace on her leg will allow, and she draws some of the dirt from the ground, causing it to drift in the air around them like a thin blanket of light brown fog. While she’s alone, Clarke attempts to think rationally: _Being pregnant is an inconvenience anyway. You didn’t even want it… Did you?_

It’s like all of her nightmares have taken shape and found a way to enter the real world. Right now, they’re smothering her, stealing more and more of her oxygen until his eyes are there, softly pulling her back as they chase the demons away. His warm hands against the back of her hair have her head falling onto his shoulder. 

“Can you stand?” Bellamy breathes into her hair, and she can hear the anxiety that’s strangling his voice. Because he feels her shake her head in response, he lifts her off the ground as if she was a flower, struck by her sudden fragility.

The cool metal of the table is the first thing she really feels, then it’s his hand in hers, his lips touching her knuckles. Although she can hear her mother speaking frantically, it sounds as if she’s standing miles away, so Clarke doesn’t respond, nor does she wince as an IV is placed underneath the skin of her wrist. In spite of Bellamy’s endless attempts at comfort, running his free hand through her hair, the only fuel that’s running through her veins is panic, and she knows him well enough that an image forms in her mind of what he probably looks like right now, struggling to maintain a steady breath and suppress the tears that want to well up in his eyes.

“Take a few deep breaths, Clarke…”

Finally, her mother’s voice seems audible, most likely because the fluids have dulled the pain a little. Although it’s difficult, she does what she’s told while keeping her eyes closed.

“You feel any blood?” Abby asks, fear showing through her trembling voice, and as she shakes her head in response, Clarke can hear her sigh in relief. _It’s a good sign…_

_Though not a definite sign of safety…_

Only a heartbeat can tell them the truth, and knowing that, Abby immediately begins to search for it using the ultrasound machine. Everyone seems to be holding their breath, and for a moment Clarke fears that her heart will stop beating if she doesn’t hear the sound of the baby’s doing the same.

But then she does. The steady rhythm fills the room, conquering the atmosphere and with a single, deep sigh of relief, they all breathe again. Once her lungs have found light oxygen in the room, Clarke notices that the tears have returned, too, but this time they remind her that she’s not numb, that she’s not dying or breaking underneath the cruel thumb of Earth.

“It’s okay… Everything’s fine,” Bellamy murmurs before pressing his lips to her forehead, and although she can hear that he’s crying, he seems to be calming down as well. However, that’s only until Abby speaks, “No, it’s not…”

Instantly, they both look at her, fear settling within their gazes. Exhaling, Abby allows a few cruel moments to pass, then she finally explains, “Pain is never a good sign during pregnancy. When it’s not the cause of a miscarriage, it’s most likely your body telling you that it’s on overload. You’ve been working too much, haven’t been eating enough and haven’t had proper rest in weeks. That kind of behavior takes a toll on your body, especially when you’re pregnant, Clarke. You _know_ this. I’ve taught you this.” 

Swallowing the lump of guilt that’s tightening her throat, Clarke nods. No words are needed, and she wouldn’t be able to say them if they were.

“If you don’t understand the importance of everything that I just told you, I’ll have no choice but to put you on bed rest.”

Her mother knows how to form a good threat, because _bed rest_ happens to be the last thing that Clarke wants. If she’s forced to stay in bed all day, she’ll have no way of finding out how the projects they’re working on are progressing. Nevertheless, Abby’s probably right: Maybe Earth has stolen her ability to relax, to take care of herself. The last time she did that was nearly a month ago when she visited the ocean with Bellamy, and even then it only lasted for a day. Afterwards, they’d gone straight back to work, to their duties.

“I’ll make sure she rests,” Bellamy suddenly promises, giving Clarke’s shoulder a gentle squeeze while his eyes are determined and focused on her mother.

Luckily, Abby hasn’t ever had trouble trusting him since she’s never had the ability to ignore the passion in his selflessness, in his loyalty and especially the unbelievable amount of love that spills from his heart with every beat. Knowing all of that, she lets them go.

 

* * *

 

“So… How do you plan to _make sure I relax_?” She asks him, a teasing edge to the words as they walk across camp together, his arm still around her shoulders for support. Smiling softly, she is hit by a wave of realization that has her really _feeling_ how nice it is that she’s not walking alone, that he’s not at work, because a spark of fear continues to reside within her chest and he’s the only person who can successfully help her put it out. 

“First, we visit Monty and Raven in the mechanic bay, because while they’re probably worried about you, they also want us to see the progress of the methods that we most likely won’t understand… Then, we take a shower.” 

 _We…_ It’s true. He’s not going to leave her alone, which is the most comforting thing right now. Usually, he understands when she wants some time to herself and when she doesn’t: This time, he’s figured that it’s the last thing she needs and she’s incredibly grateful for that. After all, she has always found it difficult to ask him to stay… 

In the mechanic bay, they are met by breaths of relief and a group hug initiated by Monty, “Are you okay, Clarke? Is--?” 

She nods, explaining that although she’s still in a little pain, she just needs to relax, which manages to chase some worry off her friends’ faces. Once they’ve let the relief sink in for a few minutes, Raven practically shoves a glass of water into Clarke’s hands, “You terrify us, Griffin,” she adds before she begins to talk about the possibility of growing vegetables, grain and fruits.

“The experiments that we started last month had pretty promising results… Just take a look,” Monty says, the excitement shining through his voice. At his words, Raven places seven small boxes filled with samples of soil on the table. 

“We’ve collected soil samples from seven different places within a thirty mile radius from the camp to find out if any of those places can be used for plantation… Here are the results,” once she’s said that, she turns on a lamp that shines light onto the seven boxes: They’re all just soil, except from the fourth one, where small green sprouts have appeared. At the sight, a radiant smile forms on Bellamy’s face and Clarke brightens up, too, the excitement bubbling in her stomach in a way that takes some strain off her muscles.

“The soil sample in the fourth one is collected five miles from the eastern part of the woods. The wheat seeds that we’ve placed in there took less than two weeks to sprout.”

“Where did you find the seeds?” Bellamy inquires.

“Buried underground a few feet from Clarke’s tent.”

“You’re _joking…_ Is that why you’ve been digging there for weeks?” At her question, Raven smiles mischievously until it appears within her dark brown gaze in the form of sparks. Nodding, she shamelessly replies, “Believe it or not, the two of you are not the only people who have secrets around here.” 

 _No, of course not,_ Clarke thinks as Luna pops into her mind. Because of this, she arches an eyebrow at her confident friend, who immediately grasps it - if the color that creeps into her cheeks is any indication…

Confused, Monty clears his throat, “In the last two months we’ve also found seeds from the following plants: tomatoes, eggplant, carrots, broccoli, peaches, plums, pomegranate, apples and _strawberries…_ To me, it looks like Earth has finally granted us something.” 

Smiling at Bellamy, Clarke lets him say it, “Brilliant work, guys!” 

They stay there for another hour to absorb the many details of how the idea of plantation can be made reality in the best yet quickest way possible. Although it will take some time to find an efficient way to do everything the plantation requires, there’s no doubt that it will be worth it in the end…

* * *

 

When they walk out of the mechanic bay, hope has settled within their hearts, making everything surrounding them appear a little brighter in the mellow light of the setting sun. Holding her hand in his, Bellamy keeps the promise that he made earlier, leading her towards the shower quarters, and the first thing he does upon closing the door is take the rubber band from her hair, so the golden waves fall softly onto her shoulders. 

Cradling her face to run his fingertips through her hair, Bellamy kisses her, his mouth so tender that it has her sighing. At the low sound, his lips move to her jawline where they rest for a moment until they travel down her neck, releasing whimpers of pleasure from her throat.

With a single, smooth motion he has taken off her shirt, his hands moving over the exposed skin until his lips take over. Deliberately turning her restless mind off, Clarke closes her eyes for what seems like a brief minute, but once they flutter open again, she realizes that it must’ve been longer than that, because all of their clothes are on the floor. 

“You okay?” He asks, turning on one of the sprays and she tries to swallow the tears that have suddenly gathered in her throat. In spite of that, she nods before placing herself underneath the showerhead, which spills calm water onto their tired bodies. Bellamy looks into her eyes, searching them for the truth that he knows she hasn’t yet spoken. Figuring that she doesn’t really want to hide it, Clarke hugs him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m terrified,” She admits, trying to hold the tears back. 

“Well, I’m not leaving you… You’re not alone in this, remember?”

At his words, she kisses the only place she can reach, which is the curve of his shoulder, the one that carries so much. Pulling back, Clarke notices that his eyes have closed and it’s a sight that tugs the corners of her mouth upward to form a smile. Gently, she moves a strand of curly hair off his forehead and presses her lips to the dimple in his chin.

Bellamy’s a selfless man, especially when it comes to intimacy, so as soon as she’s taken a step back, he tells her to stand against the shower wall with her back facing towards him. For a quite a while, the request turns the atmosphere electric, but he makes her wait for it as he’s done many times before, usually because he likes to take his time and her impatience turns him on.

This time as no exception, even though he’s gentler about it, carefully massaging the strain out of her neck and her spine until she wants to cry of relief. Once he’s nuzzled her neck, Bellamy works some shampoo into her hair and coaxes it out using only the lukewarm water and his fingertips… Basically, he has skilled hands and he doesn’t ever let her forget.

“You want it?” He breathes hotly into her hair, causing goosebumps to form down her spine. Honestly, the thorough massage has made her feel twenty pounds lighter, so an orgasm would probably make her evaporate, but right now that actually seems like a wonderful thing.

“ _Please_ …”

“Say nothing more,” upon having muttered that against the back of her neck, Bellamy pushes two of his fingers inside her, drawing a moan from her throat. It takes him about two seconds to find _that_ spot, the one that always has her shuttering in pleasure and when she does, he wraps his free arm around her, pressing his lips to her shoulder blade.

Perhaps embarrassingly, barely a minute passes before she comes apart, breathing his name like a mantra that collides with the shower wall, “Are you relaxed?” He chuckles, causing her to turn around and kiss him senseless, “Shut up,” laughing that against his lips, Clarke moves her fingertips through his hair.

“Hey, it worked,” he remarks triumphantly and she rolls her eyes in response. After all, they just need to shower each other in the affection of light-hearted jokes on a day like today…

 

* * *

 

As the sky turns dark blue, they take a seat by the fire, hoping that the flames will provide the power it takes to truly ignite their hope. Scooting closer to him so they can share the blanket that he’s placed over her shoulders, Clarke whispers, “I owe you…” 

Instantly, Bellamy furrows his eyebrows, “No, you don’t,” but she just smiles a little as she lifts a raspberry from the bowl to twirl it between her fingers directly in front his lips. Looking at the glint within her eyes that has been softened by the firelight, Bellamy gets the cue and eats the berry. Absent-mindedly, Clarke sucks the sweet remainder of the juice off her thumb, sensing Bellamy’s gaze on her.

“In sexual favors, I do.” 

He groans at that, but it quickly turns into a flustered chuckle, “If you say so, Princess.” 

When she turns her soft gaze on him, the teasing atmosphere instantly changes. Then, she places her hand on his cheek, letting her thumb caress the smear of freckles there, “You’re not alone in this either, Bellamy.”

Worrying his lip, he inhales some of the fresh, pine-filled air that surrounds them, and the single tear that escapes from behind his eyelids is caught by the pad of Clarke’s thumb, “I just feel like we should talk more about this. I mean… The baby could’ve died today and we still haven’t realized how terrible that is.” 

Clarke thinks about his words for a moment, “Do you think that’s because we haven’t fully realized that it’s _our_ baby?”

Swallowing, he looks at her, his eyes as soft as the wind around them, “It might be… Maybe we’re too scared to understand that this is actually happening. Maybe that’s why we can’t connect.”

Him saying that causes her to remember what Raven had advised her to do weeks ago: _Try not to get too attached,_ and it hits her that she’s followed it without really meaning to. At least, she thought it was for the best at the time, but maybe it isn’t… 

“I think we should try,” she says at last. 

“I think so, too…” 

At his reply, Clarke moves her hand but only to grab his, run her thumb along the mountain chain that is his knuckles before placing his hand on her stomach and her own on top of it. A few seconds pass before his fingers splay on the bump, but when they do, Clarke’s heart swells in awe. 

“It’s our child,” Bellamy murmurs, pressing their foreheads together before kissing her softly and she finds herself smiling…

… Because all that she can think about is that, in spite of everything tragic that nearly happened today, it seems as if _the miracle_ has dawned on them early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always deeply appreciated :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 8! Finally! There's a flashback in this one and you can expect more of those in the future chapters, so I hope that they're enjoyable :) Also, the glowing forest might make an appearance in this one ;)
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend, Camille (@cupcakeblake on tumblr), who celebrated her birthday yesterday! You're amazing, girl! <3

It turns out that in order to connect with their child, Bellamy and Clarke have to truly remind themselves of the night that it happened, where everything changed while they were completely unaware. When she came to his cabin, he’d found her eyes almost _foreign,_ in a soft shade of blue and he hadn’t been able to interpret what it meant, what it asked for and if it was something that he was capable of giving. After all, at sunrise the following morning, he was supposed to leave on a mission - one, which was honestly just routine, but she never liked it. Frankly, she was always a little scared, trembling slightly and clinging to the fabric of his jacket as he hugged her goodbye.

Still, he’d seen her like that before, so if she wanted to hold him back from leaving he would’ve recognized, because it was with that goal she had shown up at his doorstep a few weeks prior. Her eyes they’d shone in determination, an electric kind of blue. This was different. Very different…

 “I remember your face when you finally realized it,” Clarke says, trailing her fingertip along his cheekbone, over every single freckle there, “You were in _awe_ …” 

Of course he was. They’d never done anything remotely close to that before, too scared of how they might drown in a sea of emotions that they weren’t yet ready to face, if they loved like that. 

“I was mostly nervous,” he admits before picking one of the small, white flowers from the grass to place it in her golden hair.

It’s not like she ever really noticed, his kisses being gentle but self-assured like the wind, leaving invisible marks all over her body that she could feel for the entire three days that he was gone afterwards. They’d made love for hours, and heat still rises to Clarke’s cheeks whenever she thinks about it… Like now, which causes Bellamy to run his thumb over the skin that has been left pale pink. Once their gazes meet, enchanting one another, Clarke senses her heart swell because every time she looks at him, she manages to find a new kind of brown within his eyes and that shouldn’t be possible, but apparently it is when it’s _him._ He’s a rare kind of masterpiece, one that’s crumbled at the edges, one that’s been nearly torn apart yet never ceases to steal her breath.

“It’s sort of ironic, isn’t it? That the best sex we’ve had resulted in a baby,” there’s a slightly teasing smile on her lips as she says that, knowing it’s risky. Sure, they’ve had a lot of great sex in the past six months, but there’s just something special about that night that makes it different: Perhaps it’s because her body doesn’t seem to have forgotten the perfect feeling of the sheets against her skin, of the softness in his movements that told he would come back. Although he almost didn’t…

“The best sex we’ve had? I don’t disagree, Clarke, but I still see the statement as a challenge.”

 _Obviously…_ Chuckling, Clarke lets her hand run through his hair - an action that has him smiling brighter than the sun above them. She tells him that she’s glad he decided not to work a guard shift today and left that job for Harper, because not only had she been wanting to do it for a while, but it also allowed the two of them to take a rare break together.

When Bellamy had built his cabin, he’d certainly chosen the most beautiful place at the outskirts of the expanded Arkadia, overlooking the lake that’s surrounded by pine trees and wildflowers. Maybe such a calming place helps ease the tension in his tired shoulders, and if it doesn’t, _Clarke_ does.

“I wanted to spend some time with you today,” is all he says, letting another white wildflower drop to her hair. In return, she presses her lips against his in a chaste kiss. When she pulls back, she finds the expression on his face marked by wonderment, which isn’t his usual reaction, but it changes upon a few moments, just before he narrows the space between them to kiss _her._ It’s so unexpected that it has her shuttering for the three amazing seconds it lasts. 

“If you want to draw the view, Miller brought more charcoal back from his trip to the Trikru village yesterday.” 

“I’d rather draw you,” she replies, pulling herself up to sit in the grass, which is an action that Bellamy soon mirrors. When he looks at her again, he’s smiling as amused sparks shine within his eyes, lightening them up like a thousand small suns. 

Lately, drawing has been something that allowed her to relax, which is why she’s been doing it a lot during the past couple of days. Also, it seems to have calmed her mother down a bit, because now she can actually manages a smile whenever their eyes meet across camp. Out of anxiousness, Clarke has taken fewer shifts in the medical bay, but she does plan on going with Bellamy tomorrow to finish mapping the northern part of the woods. 

“How many drawings do you have of me now? Fifty?” 

“Something like that,” Clarke replies, winking at him, which only makes him smile brighter.

Licking his lips absent-mindedly, Bellamy pulls two green apples out of his backpack, handing one of them to her. It’s nice that he’s there to remind her to do the things that she’s supposed to, because on the days where she eats a lot, she often forgets to relax and on days where she relaxes, she usually forgets to eat.

“You’re past the first trimester - that calls for celebration.” 

“With apples?” 

“… And a date.”

For a while, she just looks at him, the words having struck her speechless. _A date? Dates are for… Couples._ It’s not because the mere thought of going on one with him doesn’t have her heart fluttering in about a million different ways, but it’s… She doesn’t know what it would mean for them.

“A date?” Once the nervousness emerges with that, Clarke immediately wants to take it back, afraid that he’ll misunderstand. Then again, he never does, which he proves by moving closer to place a wild, golden wave behind her ear.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel like it. I just figured that it’d be good for us to escape for a few hours. After all, we have a council meeting today.”

 _That’s true._ Because of the established peace, council meetings are more rare than ever before since they only are scheduled twice a month for planning and various updates. Today, they’re supposed to talk about how they’re going to start growing grains, vegetables and fruits, so obviously Raven and Monty are joining them for this meeting. 

“Where are you planning on taking me?”

“That’s a surprise you have to wait for, Princess.”

 

* * *

 

The meeting passes by pretty smoothly even though it’s long. Most likely, the nice pace is due to Monty and Raven’s excitement as they talk about their discoveries, their experiments and their ideas. By the end of the discussion, Kane has left them in charge of the entire project, realizing that no one will be able to do a better job, which couldn’t be truer.

“Way to go, Reyes,” Clarke says, grabbing her friend by the arm before she can head outside. Instantly, she smiles, brightening with a ray of confidence that is actually pretty contagious.

“It’s not explosions, but it’s something.”

The joke has Clarke chuckling lightly as she watches Raven join Monty on the way back to their sanctuary, also known as the mechanic bay. When not by the ocean with Luna, Raven spends most of her time there with Monty, when he isn’t with Harper, of course. Sometimes, Clarke catches the two colleagues bicker over nonsense as she walks in for an update, but she understands enough to know that it must mean that they’ve become good friends. It makes her happy…

As soon as it’s only her, Bellamy, Abby and Kane in the room, the subject changes unexpectedly like the tide when Kane asks, “Are the two of you doing okay? Don’t lie to us.”

At that, Bellamy and Clarke look at each other for a few seconds, their gazes silently conversing before he turns to reply for both of them, “We’re getting by.”

It’s the most suiting answer to that question they can think of since they’re not doing bad or awful and yet the word ‘happy’ doesn’t feel like it can properly describe their current situation, which is a pregnancy filled with worry and uncertainty, but at least, they’re getting by... 

“If you need a week off, we can easily find people to replace you.” 

Clarke looks at him again, for the first time in a while thinking that it would be nice to not worry about leadership or other forms of work. Maybe that’s because she’s carrying a nearly fourteen- week-old child and it’s actually starting to become real now that’s she’s decided that she wants to feel connected to it.

_It… No, that doesn’t fucking sound right._

“I think we’re fine here for the time being,” she hears herself replying, “But we’ll make sure you know if we need a break.”

As Bellamy nods, Abby asks, “And your relationship? If you’re gonna be parents, it’s important to maintain that, too.” 

 _Oh, we maintain it, mom. Don’t worry,_ Clarke thinks while trying to suppress the smirk that pulls at the corners of her mouth. Not only do they have sex in spite of the pregnancy, but it seems to have given them an excuse to be more intimate around one another. Considering how everyone knows that she’s carrying his child, they don’t have to be as discreet anymore, even if the hesitance is still there.

Surprisingly, it’s Kane who offers a reply to her mother’s question, “I think they’re doing just fine, Abby. After all, it’s not really new, is it?”

Instantly, Clarke’s curious and therefore has to ask, “How do you know that?” Honestly, she can’t imagine that Bellamy has talked to Kane about it, since they’re not as close as she is with her mother who didn’t even know.

Suddenly appearing embarrassed, Kane clears his throat before replying, “I might’ve… Overheard you talking about it in here six months ago,” the admission causes Bellamy and Clarke to blink at the same time. Then, Kane quickly continues, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have heard what I heard, but I was in the room next door and the walls are thin.”

 _Well, that’s awkward…_ Six months ago, the morning after they had sex for the first time, Clarke was working on a map, trying desperately to stop thinking about him, but then he walked into the room, looking better than ever… 

_…With his hair still messy from the previous night and the dark blue material of his t-shirt embracing his biceps. Of course, she didn’t notice him like that instantly since her back was turned and her gaze focused on the unfinished map of the eastern woods in front of her on the wall. Then, breaking her concentration, he said her name in a voice that - in spite of its caution - carried a hint of sexy darkness._

_She hated how one night with him had made her so aware of that. Upon licking her lip and taking a breath to prepare herself, she whipped around to face him, “Bellamy… I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”_

_“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to know… Is there anything we need to talk about?” Even from a considerable distance, Clarke could see him swallowing, his Adam’s apple moving and she had to tear her gaze away, her eyes briefly darting to the rifle strapped to his back. Oh, the mission. She’d almost forgotten about it._

_“No,” is all she replied at first, sounding surprisingly convincing, but in spite of that, Bellamy looked at her for a long, intense moment before finally raising his eyebrows a little._

_“Okay…” Watching him turn on his heal, Clarke closed her eyes, battling all of the horribly stubborn forces within her at the split second when she half-exclaimed, “Bellamy, wait!”_

_He did. Turning again and then waiting for her to say something, which took her a few long seconds, “I don’t want you to think that I had sex with you because I wanted you to stay.”_

_Instantly, his gaze changed, softening. Running a hand through his hair, he let the truth take some moments to sink in before he exhaled, asking, “Then why did you?” Honestly, she couldn’t blame him for thinking the worst of her. They’d been so angry at each other yesterday, every single one of their interactions seeming like it would end in a painful fire, and she’d actually shown up at his cabin to slam doors, have a last shot at convincing him, but that wasn’t how it ended. At all… Even thinking about how it did caused her mind to race a million miles a minute._

_“Because I wanted to,” she really fucking wanted to… He would probably never understand exactly how much, though, which is why he blinked, straightening his back and lifting his chin slightly to mask the surprise that flashed across his face at her truthful admission._

_Clenching his jaw a bit out of habit, Bellamy let silence roam the atmosphere for a while, then asked, his gaze resting on hers, “Does that mean it could happen again?” Everything about that question made her heart skip a beat, not because she hadn’t thought about the possibility of it herself, but because it hadn’t really hit her how much she wouldn’t mind if it did happen another time. Or thirty._

_“I guess you’ll find out when you come back,” she didn’t plan the slightly seductive edge that showed in her voice with that reply, but she instantly chose to blame it on his stupid sex hair. That was until she realized how - given the lack of good brushes on Earth - she probably had stupid sex hair, too._

_Shit, she must look like she was well and thoroughly fucked last night… Since she was._

_Holding her gaze, Bellamy strode to her quickly, which managed to puzzle her until he wrapped his arms around her - in their standard ‘may we meet again’ hug with his hands placed on her waist, but it felt different suddenly, being touched by him. Not in a bad way, just in a ‘we had sex last night so of course things have changed’ kind of way._

_Pulling back, Bellamy met her eyes, holding them in enchantment until he brushed the calloused pad of his thumb over the hickey that he had left on her neck the night before, “We’re okay, right?”_

_“Of course we are. Now… Don’t get yourself killed.”_

Apparently, Kane had heard all of that. He knew about them long before her mother and didn’t tell her anything, which Clarke is incredibly grateful for. Beside her, Bellamy is still looking at Kane, his eyes sending a message that she doesn’t really understand. Perhaps, it’s just gratefulness as well, because he chose not to question them about it although he could’ve: He could’ve questioned the continuation of their partnership, but he didn’t. Instead, he was respectful, pretending that he didn’t know anything that he shouldn’t. 

Yeah, he’s a good man and Clarke’s happy that her mother has him. _Just like she has Bellamy…_  

“What about things for the baby? A crib? Blankets? Clothes? Toys?”

Worrying her lip, Clarke tries to think of a more optimistic reply to Kane’s question than the one she has in mind, but she ultimately fails, “We haven’t really thought about that yet. We need to get through the pregnancy first.”

Placing his hand on her shoulder, Bellamy gives it a reassuring squeeze that speaks louder than a thousand words, then he says, “We’ll figure something out soon.” 

And suddenly, just like that, she’s sure they will…

 

* * *

 

After dinner, they borrow the rover to go on whatever adventure that Bellamy has planned. When they’ve driven for a bit in silence, looking at the pine trees that surround them, Bellamy speaks, “I’m glad we finally got the opportunity to use the rover again, because I’ve been waiting to show you a song for days,” although they probably shouldn’t because of the power waste, they usually listen to music on their drives in the rover, because it simply offers a kind of relaxation that they don’t normally have the luxury of experiencing. 

“Then play it,” Clarke replies with a smile, causing him to beam back at her. _That bright, boyish grin is difficult not to fall in love with._

Bellamy’s taste in music, as Clarke has concluded from his various song selections, is very mixed: Sometimes it’s rock tunes with blasting guitars creating a fun, occasionally sexual atmosphere. For instance, one of his favorites is one called ‘ _The city’_ by the 1975, whose opening lines and rhythm never fails to make her want to jump him right there on top of the seats. This time, however, he’s chosen a tune that’s way more laid back, one that has her closing her eyes.

 

_Broken bottles in the hotel lobby_

_Seems to me like I'm just scared of never feeling it again_

_I know it's crazy to believe in silly things_

_But it's not that easy_

_I remember it now, it takes me back to when it all first started_

_But I've only got myself to blame for it, and I accept it now_

_It's time to let it go, go out and start again_

_But it's not that easy_

“What’s it called?” She asks, her voice low to hide the tears that have crept into it.

At the question, he smiles at her in the rearview mirror, “High hopes.” 

“It’s good.”

Upon saying that, she’s almost too busy to notice the blue butterfly that lands gracefully on the windshield. Its beauty is caught by the corner of her eye, however, and her heart flutters as she finally focuses on the sight, taking a minute to look around at the forest that glows through the car window.

“Date approved?” He jokes and she can hear the light chuckles that are about to emerge from his throat bubbling through his voice. 

“Definitely…” 

Once they’re seated in the tall grass, admiring the hundreds of blue butterflies that cover the tree trunks, Bellamy begins to casually braid Clarke’s hair. She thinks that he must’ve learned it from raising his sister, but she doesn’t mention it, knowing how much it still stings, how many of his nightmares include her being ripped away from him. It’s all the cause of her abandonment and although Clarke hasn’t yet dared to voice her opinion about this, she wants to - wants to tell him _that he deserves so much better._

But something tells her that he would never believe it…

“You should braid my hair more often. It feels nice,” is what she says to him instead and luckily it makes him chuckle. 

“I like when you let it down, though. I mean, it’s beautiful no matter what, but you seem freer when you’re hair isn’t tied up,” with that, he places a soft kiss to the junction which connects her neck to her collarbone. For a moment, it feels as if the action might’ve melted her heart, but then it flutters against her ribcage like a butterfly’s wing and she realizes that it didn’t - at least not quite.

“Is that why you always let my hair down before we have sex?”

“Exactly.” 

His simple answer makes her laugh. When he’s tied the braid, she quickly turns and he pulls her into his lap. Running his thumb along her jawline, Bellamy looks deeply into her eyes before he kisses her, pouring passion into it, an amount that nearly has her gasping. She places her hand at the back of his neck, tracing her fingertips over goosebumps that have formed there. Quickly, she finds one of the dark curls at the back of his head, wraps it around her finger and Bellamy retaliates by moving his thumb to draw an invisible line that follows the curve of her breast.

This time, she decides to draw back, because what she really wants is to talk to him. In the past couple of days, she hasn’t had much time to do that, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. About having to get through the pregnancy. I didn’t--“

“Clarke, don’t. This is difficult for both of us, but we’ll get through it together.”

 “But it’s not supposed to be like that, is it? I mean… Pregnancy’s supposed to be beautiful, something that makes you excited and hopeful… Not _scared,_ ” she replies in spite of how much she wants to be reassured by his attempt at comfort. Her hands still placed on the back of his neck, she looks at him with a gaze that’s slowly breaking.

“I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like, Clarke, but the emotions you’re experiencing are valid, they’re important and they’re not wrong. You’re a mother and a mother worries about her child, even if it isn’t born yet.” 

Feeling tears well up in her eyes, Clarke kisses him, keeping it gentle. _He’s gonna be such a great father,_ she thinks for the hundredth time and wants to tell him more than ever before, but the moment’s still not quite right. However, maybe a change of emotions will do the trick…

“I guess that since we’re trying to connect with the baby, you should know that I think it’s a girl.” 

For a long moment, Bellamy just stares at her, but a small smile eventually pulls at the corners of his mouth, conquering in a way that changes his entire facial expression, “Really?”

She nods as her own lips give in to the contagiousness of his smile, “At least that’s what all of my dreams have told me. Also, it’s just the feeling I have… It could change, though, so don’t get too excited.”

“I’m afraid that’s already too late, Princess,” he admits before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead and she chuckles, allowing herself to forget the worry that has been roaming within her for days, threatening to break her bones. Connecting with the baby causes more worry, certainly, but it still allows for the tiny spark of hope in her heart to grow at moments like this one. 

Moments that feel like they could last forever…


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for the lack of updates in the past weeks. I've been extremely busy with school since exams are coming up. I'll try to write some more before I need to start studying for those :) Thank you so much for sticking with me! 
> 
> In this chapter, my main focus was the contrast between worry and hope. I'm sorry if it seems like a filler, but I promise that it'll all make a little more sense in the next few chapters. Also, if you wonder why I haven't used the typical Bellarke fanfic trope of Abby disapproving of Bellamy and Clarke's relationship, it's because I really didn't think it'd feel right. 
> 
> I apologize for any errors in my spelling or grammar. I only read this chapter through once :)

She still thinks of them sometimes, the people they have lost; those who are buried in the ground near the dropship, their graves surrounded by the smallest wildflowers - or at least they were the last time that she went there to talk to Wells. That was sixteen weeks ago before she knew she was pregnant. In fact, pregnancy had been the last thing on her mind then, as it was torn to pieces just like her heart by the view of Bellamy’s face twisted in pain and the feeling of his blood covering her shaking hands. Since her father was floated, Clarke had struggled to believe in anything, but that night she’d found herself kneeling in front of her childhood friend’s grave, begging him to ask the stars to line up in her favor, to let Bellamy live… 

They did, and now Clarke has named the brightest, twinkling star by peak of the mountain after him.

“You thinking again?” 

In the dim light, she can feel the warmth from his hands seep through the thin fabric of her shirt, onto her skin. Lately, Bellamy touching the bump on her stomach has become normal, something to which they finally have adjusted. Perhaps that’s because the sound of the baby’s heartbeat through the ultrasound machine seems to grow stronger with every week that passes.

“I’m fine,” she replies, managing a smile. Leaning forward, Bellamy causes it to linger on her face for a bit longer than she thought was possible by kissing her.

“I don’t have a guard shift tomorrow. Traded with Miller.” 

Although the statement excites her, Clarke decides to fake pout, “That means that I don’t get to wake you up like I did yesterday.” 

Of course, she can’t actually see it because of the weak light in the cabin, but somehow she’s certain that he’s blushing slightly, and therefore she finds herself imagining his freckled cheeks as they are colored by a rush of unexpected heat. “Who says you can’t?” He asks, “I won’t complain, I promise.”

Honestly, she won’t either. She’d love to wake him up with lazy kisses and a handjob every morning, but usually they don’t have time for it since he always works the earliest shift possible. For the longest time, she hadn’t been able to understand that he’s willing to sacrifice important hours of sleep just to guard the fence, which is why she’d decided to ask him about it a few days ago.

His reply had surprised her: He liked to watch the sun rise over Arkadia, how it painted the sky in a new set of colors every time. Somehow, it reminded him of the image he had of Earth when he was a child, living in poverty and blissful ignorance. Like so many other children in space, he’d believed that this planet was a fairytale. As it turns out, it wasn’t… 

“It’s a deal, then,” she responds at last, her heart fluttering once it realizes that her amusement shines through her voice, which it has been happening more in the past week. The reasons for that aren’t really clear, but she doesn’t need them to be. In reality, all that she cares about right now is being able to feel whatever her heart wants to without thinking too much about the consequences. 

Moving to the small of her back, Bellamy’s fingertips begin to massage it softly, and she hums at the sensation, letting her head drop to his shoulder. Upon that, Clarke feels his lips against the crown of her hair, murmuring a bit of sweet nonsense that is barely audible yet still manages to make her feel secure. In return, she places a kiss to his shoulder, and his skin leaves the vague taste of smoke on her lips, which have curved to form a smile.

Being nearly sixteen weeks pregnant is frankly exhausting in spite of the fact that she doesn’t experience morning sickness anymore. This is what has caused Clarke to realize that only working one shift in the medical bay a week is the best thing that she could possibly do for herself right now. _Sometimes, you have to grant yourself a little freedom_ , is what her mother had said to her once she’d told her about the decision. Nonetheless, that isn’t the best part, because there had been _a smile_ on her mother’s face when she said it. _A smile…_ That was truly more than Clarke had hoped for. 

“Do you know when you should be able to feel the movements?” Bellamy asks suddenly.

 _Oh dear, he’s such a father,_ which is clear in spite of his slight wariness. “My mother told me that most women feel the first movements at around eighteen weeks.” 

She can almost taste his impatience in the brief kiss that he leaves on her lips at her reply. When he pulls back, Clarke considers playing with his hair to tease him - fight cuteness with cuteness, but ultimately she simply scoots closer, tangling her legs with his. 

That’s her cue for sleep. With a single kiss to the corner of her mouth, Bellamy respects it and she can feel his gaze on her as she begins to drift off…

 

* * *

 

After spending the first few hours of the morning shamelessly cuddling with Bellamy, trying to memorize the smallest details like the soft texture of his eyelashes as they flutter against her temple, Clarke doesn’t feel her heart quake in longing as she sits down by _their_ table and he walks away to tell Greek myths to some of the older kids who live in Arkadia. 

She feels herself smiling slightly. During the wars that they thought were endless, Clarke had forgotten how he looked whenever passion places a smile on his face. Even though it’s wonderful, the happiness also seems a bit dangerous … _Happiness makes falling in love easier._

Watching him for as long as she can until he’s out of her sight, Clarke worries her lower lip before turning her head towards the can of water that someone has just managed to place in front of her without her noticing. When she looks up, she finds her mother’s face, instantly noting the change: How much brighter her eyes appear, and Clarke figures that it’s because some of the stress have finally left them, allowing them to shine again. 

“Can I join you?” She asks, the smile on her face microscopic. Without hesitation, Clarke nods since her immediate intuition tells her that her mother wants to discuss Monty and Raven’s project. Surprisingly, though, her intuition isn’t right this time.

“How come you never told me about him? About Bellamy?”

At the slightly careful question, Clarke simply looks at her mother, wondering how to form a proper response until she realizes that it’s not quite possible.

“I don’t really know… Maybe I was just nervous that you’d question the partnership that I have with him. After all, I wasn’t proud of the fact that I started sleeping with him. It’s anything but professional, yet I…”

“You love him.”

When her mother says it, Clarke’s first urge is to deny it, to tell her that she’s wrong. In the end, however, she doesn’t trust her own ability to lie with conviction, especially not about anything that concerns _him_. Instead, she licks her lower lip, forcing herself to maintain the eye contact that her mother has established.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m judging you, Clarke. In fact, I don’t blame you at all. I’m happy for you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. He’s a good man,” Abby replies before shifting in her seat to look at him since he has just emerged from one of the tents followed by a small herd of talkative, enthusiastic children who seem eager for the stories that he tells them. Of course, Clarke spotted Bellamy first like she always does as if her eyes have become magnetized and are pulled towards him every time he starts to move closer. “Kane told me that he gave up the service because he wanted to be a father.” 

Clarke’s heart flutters at the memory, but she still says, “Yes, but even that doesn’t properly cover how much he’s done for me. For all of us, even before you came down here.” 

Once Bellamy notices her gaze on him, he looks up to meet it as a smile begins to stretch across his face and create crinkles at the corners of his eyes. She remembers him as the man she begrudgingly entered a partnership with three years ago, the man who shot the chancellor, who came to Earth to protect his sister. Above all, she remembers him as the man who made his way into her heart.

To clarify for her mother’s sake, she continues, “He saved my life three times within that month, traded his life to save Jasper’s, was able to make choices and do things that I couldn’t at the time. None of us would be here today if it wasn’t for him.”

In spite of the fact that Clarke expects her mother to talk about how _she knows,_ Abby just nods slowly and replies, “I think he’ll make a great father.” 

“He will.” 

_There’s no doubt about it…._

* * *

 

At lunch, Bellamy reveals a bracelet of cornflowers that one of the girls made for her during his class earlier. Aside from that, he’s quiet which isn’t unusual because they enjoy silence and the peace that seems to come with it, but this time it’s different.

“Do you have something to tell me?” She asks bluntly, raising an eyebrow. Luckily, he doesn’t appear to be offended by her sudden suspiciousness as he manages a nervous smile. 

“Kane told me that they found an unopened bunker a few miles from Polis. This might be the biggest one yet.”

Obviously, she knows where he’s going with this. If there’s one emotion that Bellamy isn’t very good at hiding these days, it’s excitement. Most likely, that has been caused by the pregnancy, which she thinks is incredibly sweet. Also, it makes her relieved, since it must indicate that his feelings of guilt are starting to occupy less space in his mind and heart.

“You should go,” is what she says without giving him time to ask for permission. In reality, he doesn’t need it, but he clearly thinks that he does. 

“It’s a mission…”

“Only a small one, I hope,” she states, looking deeply into his eyes before she repeats, “You should go. Don’t ever let me stop you from doing something that you really want to,” while reassuring him, she struggles to ignore the memory of what happened the last time that Bellamy went on a _small mission._

“I’ll be back at nightfall and if I’m not, I owe you sex no matter how tired I am.”

Impulsively, Clarke takes his hand, chuckling a little while running her thumb over his knuckles. Then, she leans in, making sure that he is the only person who can hear her reply. “No. I don’t want you to fall asleep whilst your head is between my thighs.”

At that, he huffs, pretending to be offended. “How old do you think I am, Clarke? Eighty?”

She winks at him before placing a lingering kiss to his freckled cheek. “Be careful and remember to bring any art supplies you might find.”

 

An hour later, Bellamy has left with Kane, Miller and Harper to find the bunker, and Clarke decides to spend the rest of the afternoon with Raven who proudly shows her the new soil samples with wheat sprouts.

“We might’ve worked our asses off in the past months, but it looks like it’s going to be worth it. Well, at least the soil is fertile. What we need now is something to plant and _a lot_ of patience.” 

Clarke offers her friend a smile before replying with a half-joke, “I think the _patience_ part will be the hardest,” after all, the children need a balanced diet more than most of the adults here - that fact is sadly evident when you look at their blood results. The younger the child is, the more important it is that they eat well, which is why the children under the age of eleven receive four meals a day instead of three. Absent-mindedly touching her stomach, Clarke can’t help but ask: “Do you think we’ll have the plantation ready once the baby’s born?”

Reyes raises an eyebrow in thought. “You’re approximately sixteen weeks along right now. That gives us - hopefully - twenty-one weeks until the baby’s due… I don’t know, Griffin. We’ll try to make it work, I promise, but…”

“Don’t worry about it, Raven,” dismissing the rest of her friend’s reply with a wave of her hand, Clarke sits down on the couch at the end of the room. “You shouldn’t rush. I know that you’re doing everything you can. I’m just… I just want it all to be okay.”

Since the first time Raven spoke a word to her, Clarke has been sure of the fact that she is a realist even at times when it’s uncomfortable. In spite of this, she still places a hand on Clarke’s shoulder in reassurance before murmuring, “It will be.” 

Lately, she’s starting to believe in it a little more herself, even though it’s difficult. According to her mother, being anxious during pregnancy - no matter if it’s understandable - can make your experience and symptoms much worse. Certainly, as soon as she’d been told that, Clarke had done everything in her power to take control over her emotions again, to not let the worry strangle every spark of hope that started to grow within her, and finally after a while it appeared as if it actually might pay off. 

She wonders if Bellamy feels the same way. His more frequent display of excitement indicates that he does, and the thought of that manages to make her smile at the cornflower bracelet that hugs her wrist.

“Geez, are people always like this when they’re in love?”

Feeling the need to move the attention away from herself, Clarke responds cleverly, “I could ask you the same thing, but I’m not going to. Instead, I’m going to ask how Luna is. I haven’t talked to her in weeks.”

Instantly, the heat rises to the skin of her friend’s cheeks, leaving them colored by a subtle pink tint, and although she clearly tries to hide it, Clarke can tell that there’s a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. A long moment passes before Raven apparently realizes that she doesn’t want to bother hiding the happiness, because she then replies, “She’s good.”

Teasingly, Clarke wiggles her eyebrows, causing Raven to groan before quickly attempting to change the subject. “I talked to Adelaide, the pregnant woman, when I was there last week. She told me that she’d talked to you, asked how you were doing.”

_Subject officially changed…_

“How is _she_ doing?” 

“Okay, I guess… Obviously, she’s still grieving and has decided to name the baby ‘Kim’ after her husband. I told her that she could come to Arkadia with me if she wanted an ultrasound, but she told me that she didn’t feel ready for one.”

Nodding, Clarke realizes that she understands. If she’d lost the father of her child, she’d undoubtedly find it painful to watch their unborn baby on a screen, hear the heartbeat. While thinking of that, Clarke is reminded of what Adelaide had told her on the beach seven weeks ago, about her needing to _cherish_ Bellamy. Instantly, Clarke had decided to do just that… 

… And it has made such a difference.

 

* * *

 

She’s slowly flipping through her sketchbook when he returns, stepping into the cabin and sighing contently. _A good sign…_

“Did you find anything?” She asks despite the fact that she has already guessed the answer. Mostly, it’s because she’s pretty excited to find out what it is. On Earth, it’s rare that they discover items that they’re actually allowed to take, but the other clans have allowed them to bring whatever happened to be in this bunker back to Arkadia.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I think multiple families must’ve lived there during the war because there were clothes, beds, plates and silverware. Books, Clarke, _books._ ” 

At that, Clarke laughs because of course he’d lose his shit over literature being able to survive a nuclear apocalypse. For five minutes straight, he talks about the classic novels, the stories of crime and mystery, even the fairytales that were lined up on the shelves of a bookcase inside the bunker. As he speaks, his eyes are full of sparks and she’s pretty certain that she’ll remember this look on his face forever. 

In fact, just as she thinks that he can’t possibly brighten more, he says, “And I haven’t even shown you the best thing yet. Wait a second,” with those words, Bellamy picks his backpack up from the floor before pulling something out of it. Only when he holds it in front of her, Clarke sees that it’s _a stuffed animal:_ A rabbit, to be exact, at the size of her hand with long ears, a pink nose and brown fur. 

“I grabbed this as soon as I saw it. Didn’t know why at first, but then I remembered that stuffed animals - like most things in this world - have a purpose. They comfort children, make it easier for them to sleep at night… And I guess I just thought that this little guy would like to have some purpose in his life again.”

After saying that, Bellamy hands it to her, and she starts to feel tears well up in her eyes as her fingertip grazes the rabbit’s ear.

“I can ask the tailoring station to touch it up a little if…”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. I think it’s perfect as it is.”

Bellamy smiles, then stays silent for a minute before he murmurs, his voice barely audible, “Octavia had one like that…” Noticing the trembling edge to every syllable that passes his lips, Clarke looks at him and feels her heart break a little as he continues, “… Hers was just a bit… bigger.”

When the first sob emerges from his throat, Clarke has already wrapped him up in a hug, her hand caressing his back as he breathes heavily onto the skin of her shoulder. Instinctively, her other hand moves to his hair and she begins to murmur comforting words against his cheek. In the end, Octavia will always be his little sister, a huge part of his life no matter if she left him or not. He raised her, loved her with all of his heart, put his life on the line for her over and over again, and in the end that wasn’t enough to make her stay. Her walking away broke him, and every time he wakes up from a nightmare, it’s almost always about her, about her being dead and him being unaware of it, which is in fact possible, but they refuse to think about that.

“She’ll come home if she wants to, Bellamy. If she comes to her senses.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Now that he has lifted his head off her shoulder, Clarke can finally dry the tears off his cheeks and kiss them where there has been left wet stains from the drops of water. Then, she takes his hand, placing it on her stomach, which causes him to swallow hard enough for her to notice.

“If she doesn’t,” Clarke says, “You have us.”

Of course, she knows that nothing in this world could ever take his sister’s spot, fill the hole that she left in his heart, but she’s hopeful that something can make it feel smaller. Exhaling, Bellamy runs his thumb along her ribcage and nods. 

 _Family._ They’re talking about family. Since they landed on Earth, the delinquents have been their many different family members, and even though it’s wonderful, it has also created a lot of chaos that they would’ve liked to live without. Maybe this family will be different… 

“You’re a great big brother, Bellamy… And you’ll be an amazing father,” somehow, the words just slip out as if she hadn’t been struggling to say them before. Not because they weren’t true, but because he wouldn’t have needed to believe her. He does now, which is why he doesn’t argue. Instead, his dark brown gaze softens as it connects with hers, and for a moment she thinks that they’re both going to cry.

Luckily, he kisses her, which fights every tear that could have spilled. Smiling against his mouth, Clarke lets herself fall onto the sheets and he follows her willingly, his lips leaving hers momentarily to suck gently at her pulse point, travel across the skin of her exposed collarbone.

In spite of the strong possibility of this going further, Bellamy soon draws back and Clarke doesn’t complain as he settles next to her, his warm breath colliding with the back of her neck. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Clarke. Please don’t be hard on yourself. You’ll be a good mother, I’m sure of it,” rubbing her shoulder, Bellamy convinces her to turn towards him. Immediately, their eyes lock in a way that speaks louder than words, and therefore she no longer needs an explanation from him.

“We’ll make it work. I don’t doubt that.” 

Smiling softly, Bellamy caresses her temple while trying not to think about the item that is currently threatening to burn a hole in his pocket, small as it might be… 

“Did you find any art supplies?”

Her curious question has him chuckling, “Only a small amount of pencils, pens and a rusty sharpener. Is that usable?”

“Of course it is.” 

To an artist like her who creates simply to calm her busy thoughts, the smallest, most simple things are those that make the greatest difference. Bellamy must know it, since he spends at least five hours a week modeling for her. After all, she tends to draw everything that soothes her, and even though she loves to trace the wildflowers and the soft movement of the water in the lake, he always seems to be the ultimate inspiration for her artwork.

“Good… Do you wanna sleep or is it too early?” 

Outside, the sun has changed color, deepening into a perfect orange shade. Once she begins to focus on the smell of pine trees that flows through the crack in the glass window, Clarke realizes that she wants to see the woods one last time before all of the leaves turn brown.

“Maybe we should take a walk…”

  

Fireflies swirl around them as they walk among the trees, providing the tranquil feeling of dusk with small beams of light. Wandering in the woods at night has become a lot safer since the peace treaty between the clans finally started to work, but they still try to stop the kids from going by themselves if it’s possible. It’s better to be safe than sorry, Clarke thinks, her thoughts taking her back to Benjamin, the young boy who fell into an old Grounder trap.

“Do you think it’ll ever be safe out here?”

At the question, Clarke looks at him for a moment, wondering if he _can_ actually read her mind. He uses the arm that he has around her shoulders to pull her closer, causing her response to emerge softy, melt into the breeze, “I hope so… Why?” 

Bellamy’s silent for a minute before he says matter-of-factly, “It’d be a perfect place for a swing.” 

Maybe he’s thinking about that for the sake of the kids in Arkadia who are often a little bored due to the lack of entertainment, but there’s an edge to his voice that tells her otherwise. _It’s dreamlike, hopeful._

For what feels like an eternity, Earth has tried to make them associate those two words with impossibility. There’s too much blood on their hands, far too many ghosts in their minds - and that’s part of why happiness often seems unreachable. However, tonight it doesn’t. Tonight, she can imagine the swing that he wants to build overlooking the lake and the laugh of a young girl as it startles the universe. _That’s happiness…_

_And it’s actually within their reach._

While her palm rests on her stomach, Clarke realizes it for the first time: There’s honestly a chance that the stars will line up in their favor for once, and their baby is the miracle that will make it happen. Adelaide was right, and Clarke needs to remember to tell her that if she’s at the peace treaty celebration next week. 

“Do you think it’s dangerous to feel happy?” Bellamy asks, his voice a whisper as his eyes follow a firefly that rushes to safety in the crown of a nearby tree.

“Do you?”

He looks blankly ahead for a while in thought, furrowing his eyebrows. Finally, he turns his attention back to her, breathing the answer roughly, making it sound like a prayer, “I know that I don’t want to feel that way. I don’t want to be scared, because I don’t want our child to grow up thinking that happiness is something that you’re supposed to fear.” 

In spite of the fact that the darkness has officially fallen around them, Clarke easily finds his hand and intertwines their fingers. “I don’t want that either.” 

Once again, he pauses as his gaze darts to the stars for a few seconds. Looking at her, their glow seems to have been left on his face in the form of a soft smile.

“… Then we should let ourselves be happy, Clarke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos always make me cry of happiness :') Just FYI.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I updated much faster this time! :) I hope you enjoy this chapter because it certainly has a lot more relationship development than the others (at least in my opinion...). Also, some minor characters have appearances, which was really interesting to write.

_Happy…_ The word distracts Clarke’s hand from drawing the map, makes her remember how she used to watch football games with her father on The Ark. How she used to beg him for coloring pencils when her birthday was coming up so that she didn’t have to draw the Earth in black and white. To her, the planet was a colorful dream of green leaves and deep blue oceans; a dream that she never thought she’d actually reach. She never thought that she’d be able to touch the delicate purple petal of a tulip in spring, or hear the golden leaves crumble on the ground underneath her boots - She never thought she’d be caught in the rainstorm while driving in a car with a handsome guy. No, that kind of fantasy belonged in the of fairytales that she would never experience… 

Nevertheless, she’d been wrong and she remembers the exact moment when she realized it.

It was a week or two since she’d fallen into bed with Bellamy for the first time, and she still had to hold herself back every time she was alone with him. After all, having sex with him was something new, something that she didn’t quite understand, but when the heavy raindrops started to fall on the car window, Clarke remembered what happened during the last storm, all of the tension and anger that drove them to each other. Next to him in the rover, Clarke wondered if that anger hadn’t fully evaporated and if it was the only thing that made him want to touch her.

In the end, the rain brought new emotions to the surface this time. The rover, being unable to drive because of the massive amount of water, ran out of power quickly and they were left sitting there as silence took over. 

Somehow, the mess of everything drove him out of the car, but she followed, refusing to let him go, and as if he didn’t know her well enough to predict it, he looked at her in awe as she stepped towards him. It was a wordless conversation, his dark brown eyes spilling the truth of the heart that he wore on his rain-soaked sleeve, and her dark blue ones could barely believe any of it. It was clearly the truth, though, which caused her to embrace him, the storm settling around them and slowly they began to sway.

_That was the first time in a long time that she’d felt it. Happiness…_

Then, it had been nothing but a small crack in the darkness through which the light shone. Now, it seems closer than ever as she feels his presence, his body behind her and his breath colliding with the back of her neck.

“Do you have some time?” Bellamy’s voice is dark, carrying the rough edge that never ceases to make something within her shutter in the best way possible.

“For you? Always.”

At the corny reply, he chuckles lightly against the back of her neck before turning the chair that she’s sitting in. When their eyes meet, Clarke smiles at him, but her face starts to falter a bit when he settles on his knees in front of her, the look in his eyes turning determined. His fingers move to the sipper of her jeans and she places her hands on his shoulders in warning. 

“The walls are thin in here, Bellamy…” 

“Are you worried about making too much noise?” He asks smugly, but the question has her rolling her eyes because _he knows_ that she will, knows just how loud she is, which is a problem sometimes. Running his thumb along her knee, Bellamy adds, “I’ve checked. No one’s here except us. They’re all preparing for the trip to Ice Nation.”

Burying her hand in the curls of his hair, Clarke smiles against his lips once they meet hers in a passionate kiss, “You’re an excellent planner.” 

“I do my best,” Bellamy replies, curling his hand around her hip as he begins to kiss the sensitive skin of her neck. In response, Clarke can only huff a laugh, too focused on the heat coiling in her lower belly and how it makes her fingers grasp the seat of the chair tighter. “Is it okay?”

Although he never forgets to ask for her consent, it always causes her heart to swell in affection. Quickly, she nods, breathing an affirmation against the shell of his ear before nibbling at it gently. In retaliation, Bellamy wastes no more time, slipping two fingers down her panties and curling them inside her until she whimpers. 

“Quiet, Princess,” He growls, dropping a kiss to line of her jaw and she pulls at his hair lightly. Usually, he loves to draw it out as much as she allows him to, and this time is no exception since the movements of his fingers could hardly be lazier, grazing the most delicate spot inside her every once in a while. However, the pregnancy has made her more sensitive to his touch and therefore she already feels the bliss building within her. She remembers cursing at him, her words marked by impatience and frustration whenever he’d use his fingers to tease her, but that was before she became pregnant, before the hormones began to mess with everything.

Once she sucks at his pulse point, he finally caves and gives her what she wants. It pushes her off the edge almost instantly, leaving her boneless as she rests her forehead on his broad shoulder. Cradling her face, Bellamy pulls her gaze to his before kissing her deeply. “Happy peace celebration day,” he says when their lips have separated, winking at her.

She laughs, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone. “Yes, _happy_ peace celebration day.”

* * *

 

They’re driving to the Azgeda capital for the celebration, Monty, Jasper, Harper and Miller chatting merrily in the back of the rover, when Bellamy asks her, “Hey… About the gender… Has the feeling changed?” Smiling a little, she meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, allows her gaze to flicker towards her friends to make sure that they’re not listening.

“No, it hasn’t.”

Her reply seems to pull at the corners of his mouth, spread it into a bright grin that stays on his face until he clearly forces himself to be serious, “It’s not that I care, but…”

Of course, Clarke knows that he certainly won’t be disappointed if the baby is a boy, but it’s also obvious that the mere idea of having a daughter creates colorful fireworks in his heart that make him light up in a million different ways. Throwing a glance towards the glove compartment, Clarke catches a glimpse of the novel that he has started reading, one with classical fairytales. Maybe, his great interest in culture is the main reason why he started with that, but looking at him right now - at the brightness of his features - she understands that he’s practicing… 

… And she loves him for it. 

Loves him. 

Suddenly, the sound of Jasper’s voice breaks through her thoughts, “Are we staying the night in the capital?” 

“Well, I’m not driving a bunch of wasted teenagers home, so yeah,” Bellamy replies before sending their friends a lopsided smile. Looking back, Clarke notices Harper’s head in Monty’s lap and feels her heart quiver at the thought of being able to do that with Bellamy in public. When they’re in the cabin, the bubble comes around them, acting as protection from the cruel realities of the world, but it takes a lot of nerve to not be afraid, to be happy in spite of it all.

But at least they’ve chosen to fight for it. Just like Monty and Harper, like her mother and Kane…

Everything will be fine. Touching her stomach, Clarke steals a glance at Bellamy, and although he’s focused on the road, a small smile tugs at his mouth, letting her know that he’s aware that she’s looking.

Sometimes when her mind drifts to her father, she wonders if he would’ve liked Bellamy. If there was anything her father truly valued, it was the courage to stand up for what you believe is right - And that is something that Bellamy has done since their first day on the ground. Then, they might not have seen eye-to-eye, but she still recognized how the atmosphere changed while he spoke to his people, his voice marked by passion. She’d known from that moment that he was the kind of leader that she could never be - one who could genuinely _inspire_ people to follow them by using simple words of encouragement and persistence. 

Oh yes, her father would have seen the same thing…

* * *

 

Being eighteen weeks pregnant means that Clarke no longer has to deal with morning sickness, which is definitely a perk, but other minor struggles have come along. For instance, she can’t simply jump out of the rover anymore, since it’s more physically challenging but also because neither her mother nor Bellamy will let her. Instead, she waits for him to lift her, which is a little weird, but he manages to place her on the ground elegantly so that she doesn’t look awkward.

Walking to the entrance of the main building, Clarke notices that a few people have gathered there, forming a small crowd to greet them. Luna, who is standing next to Adelaide, hurries to Raven as soon as she sees her and wraps her in an embrace. Smiling, Clarke shares a knowing look with Adelaide before asking her how she’s been.

“I’m doing better,” the woman answers honestly, “But being more than thirty weeks pregnant takes a toll on your body… How far along are you now?”

It feels nice to stand in front of a person who has been through something terrible and who knows what kind of horrors you’ve been through, but in spite of that, you’re able to talk about things that have nothing to do with pain, something which is not entirely tragic. “Eighteen weeks,” Clarke replies. 

“That’s exciting… And I can see that you remembered what I told you,” noting that, Adelaide glances down at how Clarke have joined hands with Bellamy, and when her gaze moves back up to look at their faces, she manages a sad smile. It’s a smile nonetheless, which is what matters in the end. Also, Clarke knows that the last thing a grieving person needs is someone who pities them, because that just makes them feel much worse.

This is why she chooses not to say anything. However, she nods while squeezing Bellamy’s hand. Next to them, Harper is talking to Niylah, whom Clarke hasn’t seen in ages. In fact, the last time that they met was when they discussed the trade agreement almost seven months ago. Nonetheless, it doesn’t appear as if Niylah has noticed her yet, which is a relief because Clarke hasn’t quite figured out how to break the pregnancy news to everyone at the celebration who doesn’t know. She just wants to enjoy the evening for a bit without having to think about it. 

“Do you wanna go inside?” Bellamy whispers in her ear, and she gives a single nod in response. Determined, they both smile at Adelaide before following Kane and Abby into the main building where most of the guests are gathered.

It’s a gigantic room lit by torches, candles and an impressive chandelier that hangs from the ceiling. In the middle of the room is a table that has already been set for the feast tonight, and Clarke’s stomach grumbles at the thought of eating the most nutritious meal she’s had in weeks. After all, Ice Nation has a great territory reserved for plantation, but Raven and Monty haven’t had the opportunity to ask for advice until now. As far as Clarke can see, Monty is already discussing it with a few women in the corner, even though Jasper’s standing right behind him, looking about ready to drag him towards the festivities that have barely begun.

“Let’s not forget that we’re supposed to celebrate tonight,” Bellamy remarks, sending her a boyish smile. Since they don’t have the resources or the time to celebrate the smaller successes of every day, their idea of a party doesn’t involve moonshine or loud music. It’s simply the two of them in bed all night, fucking each other into oblivion, “Wanna dance?” He adds after a minute, the request taking her by surprise. Nevertheless, it’s a _nice_ surprise, one that has her beaming at him.

“Of course I will,” replying that, Clarke takes his hand and lets him lead her onto the floor where a few other couples are swaying to the soft music that Jasper and Monty have brought. If someone had told her a few weeks ago that she’d be slow dancing with Bellamy in front of people from every clan of the coalition, she wouldn’t have believed it. She would’ve never thought that they’d have the courage to be so explicitly affectionate, to act - not as partners - _but as a couple._  

Brushing the skin on the back of Bellamy’s neck with her thumbs, Clarke understands: He’s her best friend who has bled with her through all of these years, who believed and supported her in spite of the mistakes that she’s made. He’s her lover, whose body and soul she has memorized, he’s the father of her child who shines brighter than the sun, and it doesn’t matter if it’s official, if it’s a label that has much meaning in this world. Even if he is her partner before he is anything else, _Bellamy Blake is her boyfriend._

Although she wants to ask just for the sake of confirmation, Clarke doesn’t know how to put the epiphany she just experienced into words. Quickly, he notices her unease, whispering, “What’s on your mind?”

Worrying her lower lip, Clarke tries, “… Bellamy, are we--“

Before she can finish the question, it is left unfinished in the air between them as it is interrupted by none other than the king who approaches them, “Bellamy and Clarke of The Sky People,” he greets, the familiar proud glint brightening his gaze. Reluctantly, Clarke takes her arms off Bellamy’s neck and turns to acknowledge the host of the celebration. 

“Your Highness…”

Over the past two years, the peace with Ice Nation has been very difficult to establish, yet Roan played an immense part in reforming the ideology of his people, which resulted in the desire for ceasefire becoming equal on both sides. 

Managing as much of a smile as he is capable of, Roan says, “I see that your people have been courteous enough to bring moonshine for this occasion although their leader won’t be drinking any.” 

At the realization that he knows of her pregnancy, all that Clarke can say is, “I’m not the leader of my people. Marcus Kane is the elected chancellor.”

“Ah,” the king replies, “But you are Wanheda. And I must confess, the last person I expected to bear a child.”

Unsurprisingly, Bellamy’s fury hits straightaway as he steps forward to shield Clarke from any further humiliation. In his mind, it clearly doesn’t matter if the king intended to be offensive, because he says, “I try not to let my anger get the better of me, but I promise that if you _ever_ dare to question her abilities as a mother - if you as much as mention that name again, especially in front of our child, I’ll make sure that you regret it.”

In the matter of seconds, Miller is standing next to them, scowling at Roan. More than anyone, he understands that Bellamy’s anger is rarely unjustified, which happens to be why he usually decides to simply show support whenever he does become angry.

Nevertheless, Clarke places a hand on Bellamy’s forearm, mutters his name in a way that speaks for itself: _He’s not worth it._ In the end, however, her heart swells at the determined glare that Bellamy keeps on Roan, emphasizing his aversion for a few moments before he backs away. 

“I thought you were going to punch him, Bellamy,” Jasper says as they walk towards the rest of their friends. 

In response, Bellamy huffs, “I would’ve… If this wasn’t a peace celebration.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” smiling a little, Clarke squeezes his hand in gratefulness, and Harper nods to show her agreement. There’s no way that they’re going to let small differences get in the way of what they have worked so hard to establish. At least, everyone seems to agree on that now, which is a sign of how far they’ve come. If something like this had happened two years ago, hell would’ve broken loose without a doubt. _Not anymore… No more._  

Until the feast begins, they spend some time with their friends, laughing as Jasper fails to keep his eyes off a pretty, young woman from Ice Nation and Monty rolls his eyes, saying, “Go for it, Mate, but don’t get your head cut off in the process.”

As Harper tells a story about some of the kids she’s teaching in Arkadia, listing the arts and craft projects that she has made with them to effectively kill their boredom, Clarke spots Raven in the corner with Luna, smiling brighter than ever. 

_Yes, they’ve come so far…_

At dinner, Clarke sits next to Bellamy and Luna, but during the first twenty minutes, she’s too busy eating roasted deer, boiled potatoes and cranberry sauce to talk to them. Finally, Luna asks, “How are you doing?”

“Better. The only thing that worries me right now is not having the proper diet.” 

“I feel the same way sometimes,” Adelaide adds from across the table, “But you can always visit me by the ocean if you want to catch some fish.”

Smiling, Luna nods in agreement. Afterwards, silence roams at their end of the table for a minute until Indra, who’s sitting next to Adelaide, decides to break it. Leaning closer, she offers words of comfort, “Don’t listen to the king’s opinion, Clarke. Family survives everything… And survivors make good mothers.”

Stunned, Clarke can barely utter a single word of gratefulness, but eventually a ‘thank you’ emerges, bringing a slight smile to her lips. Under the table, Clarke feels Bellamy put his hand on hers, and she senses the confidence settling in her heart, causing it to burst happily. From the support, she knows that while _Wanheda_ is her past, _motherhood_ is her future that is beginning to look so much brighter…

 

* * *

 

As if Clarke hasn’t experienced enough surprises for today, Emori dances with Murphy for ten minutes and spends the next five throwing knives at a target practice dummy to prove that she’s still tough; Jasper actually hooks up with the pretty woman from Azgeda, and Adelaide tells her that she wishes to deliver the baby in Arkadia because it’s safer…

While Bellamy’s talking to Miller at the other end of the room, Niylah comes over, offering a smile. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been pretty busy,” Clarke replies, causing the other woman to chuckle lightly and arch an eyebrow.

“I can see that,” is all she says, gesturing towards the bump on Clarke’s stomach before she adds without any actual doubt, “… Bellamy’s the father, right?” 

Nodding, Clarke’s gaze drifts to find him. Once it has, she sighs, “It was an accident. I mean, we didn’t plan this and I’ve been too distracted to go anywhere, although I’ve wanted to visit you for a while, see how you’ve been.” 

“I’ve been great, actually. The business has been fantastic since the trade agreement was established. Now, people from Glowing Forest and Azgeda have been coming to the post regularly to look for supplies.” 

Surprisingly, it doesn’t feel weird to talk to Niylah even though they haven’t seen each other in a long time. Usually, friendships grow apart after a while, but apparently not this one. She’s pregnant, and they manage to not talk more about it, which is quite refreshing. Instead, they discuss the plantation project that Monty and Raven are working on as well as how multiple Trikru villages are expanding just like Arkadia. _It’s quite amazing how much progress that peace can cause…_

In the end, Niylah leaves when Bellamy joins them, but not without offering her help in case they ever need it, and she tells them that she has some old “baby stuff” in the shop that they can have since no one else appears to be interested in it. That’s when Clarke mentions Adelaide, and Niylah decides to tell her about it, too.

  

Apparently, Roan has given Bellamy and Clarke a bedroom to share even though they hadn’t told him about their sleeping arrangements before arriving, “Was he planning on setting us up?” Bellamy wonders as they’re walking towards the living quarters. In response, Clarke raises her eyebrows and tries to suppress a laugh at the thought, but she ultimately fails.

“I don’t know. It’s weird, though.”

“Very weird,” Bellamy muses while opening the door to the bedroom that has been assigned to them. Once he’s certain that they’re alone, however, he continues in a more serious tone, “Hey… While we were dancing, you tried to ask me something… What was it?”

After briefly having forgotten about it, Clarke feels every emotion of that unasked question return to her body in an instant, and they hit her with a force that nearly knocks all of the oxygen out of her lungs. Because of this, her reply is weak as it emerges. “It was silly… Forget it.”

 _Who is she trying to fool?_ Clarke knows that he sees right through her, because that’s what he always does, “Don’t bother trying to lie to me, Clarke… I know when something’s important to you and you’d rather avoid talking to me about it.” 

“It’s not like that! Not this time…” Upon exclaiming that, Clarke expects him to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he patiently waits for her to continue since he’s not going to let a pointless argument delay the question. “I just…” She starts, her voice trembling at the same rate as her hands that she has curled into fists in determination. When the question finally emerges, it’s a mere breath of air loaded with affection, “… We’re _together_ , aren’t we?” 

For a while, those few words grow to fill the atmosphere of the candle-lit bedroom. Then, Bellamy takes a step forward, swallowing, “Together?” He repeats, his voice nearly cracking at the word, which reveals how he understands that it has another meaning this time, a very different meaning… Quickly, he strides forward before taking her face in his warm hands and kissing her forehead.

“We are,” those simple words are ones that he leaves to linger on the skin of her neck.

Relieved, Clarke signs, her eyes fluttering closed as his lips travel to her throat before they move to capture hers softly. Pulling him closer, she pours every ounce of affection that fills her body into the way that she kisses him back. Although her mind struggles to make sense of what this means, her heart doesn’t care, as it bursts and swells in pure bliss, beating to the rhythm of his words.

_We are. We are. We are…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you would like to make my day \\(*.*)/


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm terribly sorry for the long delay, but I have been busy with important tests. Nevertheless, I hope that this 6K chapter will make up for it :) I had so much fun incorporating the long flashback as well as another important part from Bellamy's POV. Also, please note that I also read through this chapter once, so there might be a few mistakes, but I wanted to post this chapter as soon as possible. 
> 
> Brief warning: This chapter contains more graphic sexual content than the previous ones!
> 
> Thanks for being patient with me!

At first, Clarke thinks that it’s just her mind playing tricks on her, maybe even the cause of the rover that bumps along the unsteady road that leads back to Arkadia. Still, she feels it again; just the subtlest flutter in her lower stomach, and the realization makes its way into her mind slowly, forming tears at the corners of her eyes. Lips parting in disbelief, she looks at Bellamy, who quickly becomes worried at the sight of her widened gaze, “What’s wrong, Clarke?” He manages, and even though she wants to comfort him instantly, she is too surprised to do so. 

Struggling to find the right words, she shakes her head a little before finally stating, “… I-- think that the baby just moved.”

In immediate response, his breath hitches and he hits the breaks, putting the rover to a stop despite the few protests from their friends in the back. Instead of replying to their complaints, he turns his attention towards Clarke, “ _Moved_? Just now?” 

As she nods, Bellamy seems to have the same reaction as she had to the movements because he doesn’t say anything for a few moments until he asks, “Do you feel anything right now?”

“It was over pretty much as soon as I realized that it was happening.” 

Absent-mindedly licking his lips, Bellamy looks as if he still finds it hard to believe, which you can’t blame him for since everyone in the back of the rover have slackened jaws, and Clarke has to constantly remind herself that it did in fact happen, that it wasn’t simply something she’d imagined. The soft orange glow of the sunrise shines through the window, reflecting onto her hands, which are continuously resting against her stomach, because she doesn’t want to miss the movement in case it happens again…

… But it doesn’t, not for the rest of the drive at least, so Clarke finds herself looking at the pine trees that they pass, every mile they travel is a sign of how much has changed. What used to be fear of heartache and war has been replaced by the promise of peace, the ceaseless hope that has conquered in spite of the pain.

Clarke thinks back at how Roan assigned her and Bellamy the same room, which was not a mistake. The king simply doesn’t make many of those. _Why would he do it?_ Through the years, The Sky People have come to think of the Ice Nation king as a pretty selfish man - or at least, he’s a lot like her, willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of his people. Nevertheless, the king has witnessed some vulnerable yet intense moments in their relationship, which might’ve given him an indication of their close bond. 

Still, there’s a chance that they will never really know what made the king assign them their own room, but internally Clarke chooses to thank him. Not only because sleeping next to Bellamy has become a wonderful habit that she wouldn’t want to break, but also because the beds in Azgeda are better than the ones they have in Arkadia, more suitable for lovemaking.

 Obviously, having sex in the same way that they’re used to is becoming difficult because of the growing baby bump, but the thought of the intimacy last night doesn’t cease to make her blush a little. It’s surprising that the amount of sex that they’re having hasn’t decreased over the weeks, even though it’s slightly different. Nonetheless, Clarke is certainly not complaining. 

“Have you thought of names yet? For the baby?” Harper suddenly asks, causing Bellamy and Clarke to look at one another.

After a few seconds of silent conversing with Clarke, he replies, “No, not yet..” 

In reality, they haven’t given names a single second of thought, perhaps because they’ve been too invested in simply _connecting_ with the baby. Somehow, Clarke’s not sure that choosing a name will make much sense before the birth, yet the idea of having one in mind seems exciting. 

“How about Gretel?” Jasper jokes, making Bellamy wrinkle his nose.

“I think that we’re going to make a long list of names that we’re _never_ giving our child before we give you the chance to suggest anything,” is what he replies and Clarke chuckles. Amusement truly is a wonderful feeling, which she hasn’t experienced much lately, but it’s so liberating knowing that you feel at ease enough to genuinely enjoy the plainest moments of every day…

 

* * *

 

She often compares him to the sun, which is also clear if you look at her drawings. Almost always, her hand adds a natural glow to his dark hair and a light that shines through his eyes. Sometimes, she places the sun behind him, arching across his broad shoulders, so it looks like he’s carrying it, because he undoubtedly could.

It feels strange to watch him without being wary. When they started sleeping together, Clarke was always afraid that someone would catch her in the act of checking him out and thereby put two and two together. Additionally, they refrained from touching each other unless they were in his cabin, because they didn’t want anyone to become suspicious. Thinking back at that while knowing that the lack of casual intimacy in public was actually one of the things that made Raven question their partnership, Clarke realizes that it was an unnecessary choice.

Therefore, she watches him now as he’s sitting in the grass, reading the book of fairytales. Upon her feeling the movements, Bellamy didn’t want to leave her out of his sight, and somehow he’s managed to stay true to his word in spite of the fact that Miller had dragged him away for a guard shift. During his current break, Clarke feels his gaze on her at least once every thirty seconds and she has to resist the urge to roll her eyes in affection and amusement.

Nevertheless, it’s easy to retaliate since she appears to have lost the ability to stop looking at him. Her blue eyes don’t want to leave his face, the beautiful dusting of freckles until they find some on his biceps like small constellations of bronze stars.

Her boyfriend is a work of art. Her _boyfriend_ is handsome. Tasting the word, Clarke is stunned by its ease because she never expected herself to say it, certainly not as a title for Bellamy. _A label;_ one which is potentially harmless yet seems dangerous when used in this world. However, she feels braver than ever, so the world can suck it and she’s going to call him her boyfriend if she wants to. 

Determined, she draws a smile on his face…

  

When Bellamy walks up to her later as she’s standing by the fire alongside Raven and Monty, his facial expression is dominated by the same kind of determination. She wants to greet him, but the words stick to the inside of her throat once he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Amazed by the sudden intimacy, Clarke simply holds his gaze while she senses how everyone’s watching them. Luckily, she doesn’t have the time to find out whether it makes her uncomfortable before Bellamy’s kissing her. It’s nothing extravagant, just a brief yet patient kiss similar to the ones that he likes to give her in the morning, but it’s still very surprising.

“Well, that’s a move you haven’t pulled before,” she whispers against his lips, still breathless.

“Believe it or not, I actually listened to Murphy for once.”

“You took advice from _John Murphy_?”

Shrugging, Bellamy glances towards the topic of their conversation who has raised his cup of moonshine in approval. “He has more luck with romantic relationships than I do…”

At that, she grins, brushing her hand through his hair. “Not for much longer.” 

Afterwards, it appears as if awe has rendered him speechless, but he manages to send her a smile in the form of the twinkling sparks within his eyes. In this moment, realization strikes them at the very core. Openly being in a relationship with one another will most likely be the bravest thing they’ve done in a while, and they know that. Still, they haven’t let fear stop them. Not this time. Not anymore… 

Pressing a lingering kiss to the freckled skin of his cheek, Clarke refuses to care about the people who are watching. For the first time, she doesn’t care if anyone notices her feelings for him. In fact, she has chosen to wear her heart on her sleeve, fragile as it might seem.

 

* * *

 

_~ With Bellamy ~_

Sporting his favorite facial expression - the one with arched eyebrows and a knowing yet supportive gaze, Miller pulls him aside after the rather romantic scene by the fire. Instantly, Bellamy can tell that a serious conversation is about to ensue, but he didn’t expect to be half dragged to the nearest private corner. Once they’re standing there, Bellamy doesn’t even have time to question anything before Miller asks, “Are you gonna do it?”

“Do what?”

Sighing, Miller briefly looks to see if anyone could possibly be listening, and even though no one’s there, he still lowers his voice when he says, “… The ring, Bellamy. I saw you take it when we were in the bunker.” 

 _Oh._ Quickly, Bellamy turns his eyes towards the ground, struggling to gather the courage that it takes to look back up. He has never really talked to Miller about his relationship with Clarke, in spite of the many guard shifts that offer time for conversations like that. Maybe it’s mostly because he knew that she wouldn’t want him to, but it always felt a bit too private, too raw. 

 _The sweet irony…_ Now, he’s practically forced to speak about it. Meeting Miller’s stare once again, Bellamy finally replies, “I don’t know… I think I took it because I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t… But Christ, the thing has been burning a hole in my pocket for days, and everything’s going so well. I just… I don’t want to screw it up.”

“But you wanna marry her, too?”

Bellamy swallows while sensing frustration hit him with the force of brick. _Marriage._ It just seems so ridiculous, so impossible, and it threatens to tear him to pieces, “I do.”

“Why? Because she’s having your baby or because you love her and want to spend the rest of your life with her? I’m pretty certain that I know which one of these is the right answer. The most foolish person on this planet could tell that there isn’t a limit to your love for her, and while I believe that proposing isn’t the wisest thing to do, I also think that you should take this into account: If this life wasn’t so dangerous, would you hesitate?”

For a few long moments, they simply stand in silence as Bellamy tries to think through the surprise that is currently messing with his brain. Honestly, he never knew exactly how much Miller cared, how well they could read each other, but he’s really grateful that he knows now.

Worrying his lower lip, Bellamy puts a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, gives a short nod and says, “Thank you, Miller,” without giving him further insight. After all, he probably doesn’t need it.

“You’re welcome. Just… Use your head.”

 

* * *

 

_~ With Clarke ~_

 

It’s impossible to determine whether the slight tightness in her stomach is from fluttering butterfly wings or if it’s pure nerves. Somehow, this particular ultrasound has her head feeling light and her thoughts drifting to places where they’re not supposed to be. Most likely, this is because she knows that they might be able to see the gender this time. They haven’t even discussed whether they want it to be a surprise, but it never seemed necessary. In spite of everything, Bellamy and her agree that it doesn’t matter, as they will probably choose a gender-neutral name anyway.

Taking her hand, Bellamy smiles easily. “You ready for this? We might be able to see movement, even if you can’t feel it.”

She finds herself beaming at the possibility. The ultrasounds before this one had been worry-filled, since they had no way of knowing if they were going to hear a heartbeat. From now on, the baby’s movements will hopefully give them a calming indication of its health, which is wonderful and the mere thought of it has Clarke relieved.

Perhaps surprisingly, it’s Abby who appears to be the most nervous person in the room this time. Usually, she doesn’t allow herself to be anything but a doctor during the appointments, because the emotions tend to affect her rational mind. “If you want to know the gender, it’s best if you tell me now so I don’t spoil anything.”

Clarke exchanges a brief look with Bellamy before letting him reply, “We want to know, although it doesn’t matter much.”

It starts out like it always does: Checking that the rhythm of the heartbeat is steady, which is the most important thing. Then, Abby tells them where the hands and feet are, and that the measurements are as they should be. Given the shortage of food, it’s always a relief that the baby appears to have a normal growth. Lastly, Abby takes a breath and smiles a little, then points to the blurry image on the screen, “Although the quality isn’t the best, the shape of the pelvic bone tells me that you’re having a _daughter._ ” 

At that one word, a million emotions hit, colliding in a mess of excitement, amusement and happiness - too much positive energy at the same time, and she’s thankful for the fact that Bellamy’s holding her hand, running his thumb along her knuckles. Maybe the gender isn’t very important, but they no longer have to refer to the baby as ‘it’ anymore, and that matters, because it narrows the distance between them and their child. 

_Their daughter…_

“How does it feel to be right, Clarke?” Bellamy asks, chuckling a little.

“Amazing as always,” she teases as she gives his hand a squeeze.

 

* * *

 

Although they don’t tend to isolate themselves from everyone during dinner, they decide to make an exception tonight, because it’s Friday and everyone’s drinking moonshine, which doesn’t seem appealing given the circumstances. This prompts them to bring their bowls of food to the lake, so they can eat in peace while watching the sun set in the distance. 

In the end, it’s him who breaks the silence, “Clarke… Maybe we should talk about what this means. Our relationship.” 

She looks at him and immediately notices the bit of worry that has made its way into his facial expression, creating a frown. Attempting to offer some quick reassurance, she puts her hand on his wrist. When she’s certain that she has his full attention, she says, “Is the difference really that big if you think about it? Of course, we have to stop kidding ourselves and admit that our relationship was never strictly sex. But aside from that, the only change that I see happening is the labels, if we ever want to use them.” 

Bellamy most likely doesn’t want her to, but she notices him swallowing and it makes her wonder if she said something that could’ve hurt him. However, she doesn’t get the chance to figure it out, since he asks her a question, “… You said that it was never strictly sex, which I agree with, but when did you know?”

Of course, simply thinking about the answer causes heat to rush to her cheeks and a smile to pull at the corners of her mouth, yet she manages to speak in spite of it, “ _That_ night, Bellamy. Everything changed, because we let the emotions in.”

He nods, silently agreeing and while she can’t do anything except stare into his dark brown eyes, in which all of their stories are written, her thoughts trail back before she can stop them…

 

* * *

_~ 18 weeks earlier ~_

The sun had not yet sunk beneath the mountain in the horizon when Clarke went to his cabin that night. In fact, it was too busy coloring the sky with strokes of blush pink and soft purple that left their glow in the waves of her hair. This time, she had let it down before going, although she usually left that job for him. Maybe it was because it made her look gentler and would convey a message that she didn’t know how to properly express without demanding anything that they hadn’t done before. _She didn’t want to be fucked, didn’t want to break the bed, she just… wanted to take care of him._

Worrying her lip while trying to ignore how her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage, she knocked on the door twice. Upon doing that, she barely had a moment to take a much-needed breath, because he opened almost immediately. Certainly, he wasn’t expecting her at this hour, given that he was shirtless, his hair still damp from a shower, but he had to have figured that she’d be here tonight _. Because of the mission…_  

“Can I come in?” She asked, arching an eyebrow, which caused him to step aside quickly. Once she was inside, Clarke turned her back towards him to catch her breath and snap the first button on her shirt open at the same time. Finally turning around, she could feel that her face had become slightly flushed, as heat settled within her cheeks.

Making his way towards her, Bellamy stated, his voice gruff, “You’re here early.”

At that, she managed a microscopic smile, looking at him as he wrapped his strong arms around her, the warm feeling of his palms familiar against the small of her back. His eyes, however, were not as confident as usual given that they were searching hers, flickering while trying to determine the different kind of look within them. During this, Clarke held her breath, internally praying for him to understand. Then, she trapped one of the damp curls of his hair between two of her fingertips - a soft action that seemed to make it clearer. 

“Okay,” he exhaled, letting the word drop to the sensitive skin of her neck as he kissed it. “Okay…”

Sneaking a hand between them, Clarke let her hand trail up his defined abs and curl around his shoulder until it rested at the back of his neck. A beat passed before Bellamy returned to connect their gazes in a whirlwind of two contrasting colors: _Bright blue and dark brown…_ Somehow, they managed to mix breathtakingly, creating peace where there wasn’t supposed to be any.

Perhaps that was why her heart fluttered when he kissed her lips again. The way his mouth moved against hers was unbelievably patient while still deep enough to calm her busy mind - and it told her that he understood everything that she couldn’t tell them. Sighing as the tip of his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, Clarke let him in as she drew random, lazy patterns on the back of his shoulders. It didn’t turn hectic, the pace, since he took her shirt off by exposing her skin tenderly, pulling the fabric over her head in a simple motion.

He had never taken that amount of time to undress her before, and she found herself blushing from how it allowed his eyes to linger at the curve of her breasts for a few moments before he removed her bra. Afterwards, he pressed a kiss to her collarbone, then one to her throat that caused a low gasp to emerge from her parted lips. Focused, he shifted his attention to her chest, sucking kisses onto the swell of her breasts that troubled her breathing, almost made her head fall back. “Bellamy…” 

The sound of his name emerging from her lips had him startling briefly, which gave her enough time to kiss him languidly as her hands wandered over his chest, leaving invisible fingerprints that she hoped he would be able to feel while he was gone.

Suddenly struck by the fact that she had never actually undressed _him,_ Clarke let her hands fall to his belt buckle, which they fumbled to open. “Is this okay?” She breathed, pausing before pulling the belt from his pants.

“Yeah, of course.”

At that, she curled her hand around his hipbone, biting her lower lip. “Bellamy… I’m not just talking about removing your belt. I’m talking about going down on you.”

He blinked, the words having caught him off guard, but then a smile started to tug at the corners of his mouth, “Clarke, you don’t have to do it, but I’m not going to stop you if you really want to.” 

Once he had said that, she simply nodded in response before taking his hand, running her thumb along his knuckles and leading him to sit at the edge of the bed, “Wait a second,” he exhaled as she dropped to her knees. Looking into her eyes, he placed a hand on her cheek and closed the distance between them with a passionate kiss, “Have you done this before?” He asked against her lips once they parted from his, and she turned her gaze upward to look at him while she shook her head. 

Placing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose, Bellamy guided her to sit in between his legs. As she pulled the sipper of his pants down at a torturous pace, her eyes never left his, but she could hear him grasp the mattress trying to control his anticipation. Deciding that she didn’t want to bother removing everything later, Clarke simply stripped him of his pants and boxers. “If I seem a little inexperienced…” She began as she took his length in her hand, squeezing experimentally and tugging until she felt him grow hard. It made Bellamy breath hitch mid-chuckle.

“Trust me, you don’t.”

“Good…”

From what she’d heard about blowing guys, she’d expected it to dirty, a kind that she hadn’t already tried with him, but it actually wasn’t… Not really, because as soon as she took him into her mouth, he wrapped his fingertips within her hair and instead of talking dirty like he normally did while fucking her, his only words this time were soft encouragements in between groans. 

The first full sentence that he spoke emerged once his knuckles had turned white from holding onto the mattress, “If you want me inside you tonight, you better stop now, Clarke.”

Since it was something that she was aching for, she did what he told her to, and he immediately surged forward to capture her lips in another passionate kiss that sent shutters through her body like electricity. Groaning into her mouth, Bellamy pulled her up to sit in his lap where she could feel his erection against her inner thigh. She wondered whether he could feel just how ready she was for him, and perhaps that was indeed the case, because he - upon pressing a single kiss to her jawline - shifted to put her down on the bed amongst the soft furs. Looking into his dark brown eyes, she quickly understood that he didn’t start to trail his lips down her stomach to make her impatient like always. No, he simply wanted to take his time. When he began unbuckling her belt at last, Clarke let her eyes fall closed, realizing how _relaxed_ she was. There was no rush, nothing that made her body long for affection, as he was giving it all to her.

Although she hardly felt her pants come off, being too lost in bliss to notice, she whimpered in pleasure when Bellamy caressed her inner thighs, drawing patterns with the sweat drops that had gathered on the skin there, “You still with me?” Murmuring that, he let his lips ghost over an incredibly sensitive part of her upper thigh, right by her heat.

“Yes...” Clarke replied, her voice trembling. She was worried that if tears were released from her eyes, they would be unstoppable and carry the silvery dust from the stars that had formed behind her eyelids.

Pulling off her panties as if they were the most delicate material he had ever touched, Bellamy discovered how wet he had made her, “You could have told me about this. I would’ve stopped you earlier.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I didn’t say anything…” When she looked up at him, he smiled, the countless sparks within his eyes twinkling fondly. Then, instead of simply pushing into her like he usually did, Bellamy positioned himself on top of her so that the tips of their noses grazed and she could look at him through half-lidded eyes as his warm breath collided with her lips.

“Are you sure?” Bellamy asked, nuzzling her cheek a little, and when she nodded, he pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust and catch her ragged breath before he started to move. 

It was incredibly different; his movements patient but deep enough to pull moans from her throat. This time, she could meet him in the middle, so that her spine rubbed perfectly against the furs. For once, it wasn’t just him fucking her - it was _them_ having sex, which was something that shouldn’t have felt new, but it did. Easily, Bellamy changed the position of her thigh in order to thrust even deeper, much deeper than she thought he could and it had her gasping. When she did, he intertwined their fingers next to the pillow and kissed her softly, because he was actually not afraid to do that anymore. Frankly, their lips were never more than two inches apart…

“I got you,” he murmured and she believed him, burying her hand within the damp curls of his hair and kissing the freckles on his cheeks.

Soon, they were both at the edge. The stars behind Clarke’s eyelids were shining like small suns now, burning up the atmosphere and troubling her breathing while the muscles of Bellamy’s back were covered in a thin layer of sweat that was soaking the scars, softening them. Unsurprisingly, she came apart first, uttering his name against his lips until he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

Placing her hands on the back of his shoulders, Clarke whispered a single word into his ear, “Stay…”

“Inside you or at camp?” He asked with a lazy kiss to her collarbone, causing her to swallow hard. Honestly, she’d almost forgotten about the mission, but she still understood the reasons for that question, so she decided to answer, the words not far from broken.

“Just inside me… You feel really good.”

Kissing her, he hummed in satisfaction against her lips, “For as long as I can, alright?”

Bellamy kept his word like always, and only pulled out because his arms were starting to give in. Sharing sheets, they lay next to each other, their gazes connected powerfully once more until she couldn’t help herself and leant forward, intending to simply kiss him chastely, but he responded with passion… This told her that this night was far from over.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll return the favor that you did me earlier,” he said, a relaxed grin stretching across his lips. Chuckling, she moved her hand under the sheets to place it on his ribcage. Bellamy allowed himself a few seconds to grow used to it before he moved his own hand to her face where his thumb began to caress her cheekbone. When Clarke finally realized it, she was blown away: _They were actually cuddling._  

But the bubble burst upon a few minutes once Bellamy slid down her body to keep his promise, to return ‘the favor’ by eating her out until she was trembling, grasping the headboard with the hand that he wasn’t holding to keep her steady.

“You’re amazing,” was what she said once she finally regained the ability to speak after coming down from the high. Bellamy simply chuckled in response before pressing a lingering kiss to her neck. Afterwards, she thought that the night of perfect sex was ending, but she was wrong, because when they had relaxed in silence for a little while, he was suddenly inside her again. This time, however, was much lazier, slower than the first, but that was perfect considering that Clarke actually had the time to explore his body: How every single muscle in his arms felt like, how every bone in his back bent as he moved. 

When that was over, Clarke was completely boneless, a bundle of raw emotion that clung to him. She didn’t feel like saying anything, so she found herself playing with the damp curls of his hair instead, wrapping them around her fingertips. 

“Clarke if you wanna leave, I think it’s best if you do it now…” He murmured, although he didn’t move his hand from where it was resting at the back of her shoulders. At his words, Clarke felt a lump grow within her throat because she’d hate nothing more than to leave right at this moment - to leave at all, and of course he didn’t know that. She’d never expressed the desire to stay before. 

But this time was different, “What if don’t wanna leave? Is that okay?” She asked carefully. His dark eyes widening a little in surprise, Bellamy had to swallow before he could say anything.

“Sure. You don’t have to go.”

Once again, Clarke’s heart fluttered within her chest as she suddenly felt tears well up in her eyes. To hide them, she let her forehead drop to his shoulder, which caused him to pull her a little closer and their legs to entangle easily. Usually, the moments after they had sex were spent in silence since they served the lone purpose of allowing them to catch their breaths. As soon as those moments passed, Clarke usually left the bed to get dressed, told him goodnight and walked out of the cabin while trying not to steal a last glance of him. Because of this, the fact that she wasn’t leaving this time was incredibly difficult to grasp.

She could just hold onto him, and it was unbelievable…

“I want to wake up with you tomorrow,” she explained, holding her face so close to his that their noses touched and she could count the freckles on his cheeks. 

Running a hand through her hair, Bellamy softened his gaze, “Clarke, I already told you a hundred times: It’s just a routine mission. The village is already a part of the coalition. I’ll be gone for _two days_ , I won’t be alone and I’ll be armed in case anything happens.”

“You’re saying that as if you don’t know that I’ll always be scared when you leave. No matter the circumstances.”

When the honesty of her words had seeped into his bones, Bellamy interlaced their fingers and they fit as if they were molded to. In the dim light of the cabin, they could listen to the sound of one another’s breaths, look to the stars in each other’s eyes for guidance, “But I do know.”

He didn’t, though. Not really, because he hated himself so much, even after all of these years, and someone loving him as much as she did would never be possible in his mind. That was the problem. Sometimes, she wondered if he’d realize it if she had the guts to tell him, or if he wouldn’t be able to understand.

Suddenly, she felt tears within her eyes once again and tried to blink them away. Apparently noticing, Bellamy put his arm around her, tugging her almost impossibly closer until her head rested by his ribcage.

“The stars are out,” he murmured, “You’ve been here for hours.”

Yeah, she had and there were other indications of that, such as the sweat drops on her spine that made the thin sheets cling to her skin - and her legs, which seemed unwilling to function, “I don’t want to sleep yet, though.” 

At that, Bellamy chuckled lightly, brushing some golden strands of hair off her temple. In retaliation, Clarke began to draw on his chest with her fingertip, creating soft patterns, which she perhaps shouldn’t have done, because she was hit by an overwhelming need. “Bellamy…” She began, nervous as the question weighed on her tongue, “Can I… Can I put my head on your chest?”

“Clarke, we have sex multiple times a week and you’re asking me if you can put your head on my chest? That’s cute… Come here.”

 

* * *

 

_~ Present day ~_

When she finally manages to snap out of the memory, Bellamy’s intense gaze is still on her, “Are you thinking about it?” 

Fidgeting with grass straws, Clarke manages a smile before she counters, “What gave me away?” Honestly, she feels a bit embarrassed knowing that this particular memory affects her as much as it does, especially because months have passed since it happened. Maybe that’s why Bellamy’s reply doesn’t actually surprise her. 

“You’re blushing,” with those words, he brushes the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone as if he wants to wipe the color off her skin, to keep it, because after all she doesn’t blush that often. In fact, it’s usually him. “How do you feel about the labels?”

Perhaps, they’re making a much bigger deal out of this than what’s necessary. It’s just words at the end of the day, and she remembers catching him calling her ‘babe’ a few times in bed and being too surprised to say anything. That is a bit different, though, since during those moments it was most likely a pet name, something akin to ‘Princess’. Him referring to her as his girlfriend reveals the status of their relationship and the depth of their feelings for one another. _Are they really ready to deal with that?_

They’ll never know if they don’t try, is what she realizes, and it prompts her to say, “I’m your girlfriend, and you can address me as such if you want to.”

“Noted,” Bellamy replies simply as an affectionate smile makes its way to his full lips. As always, Clarke finds it contagious and mesmerizing, causing her to stare into his eyes until he dares to break the spell by uttering her name carefully.

“Clarke…”

“Yeah?”

As she waits for him to continue, watching nervousness seep into his facial expression, Clarke feels it again, the flutter in her stomach and now that she recognizes it, she doesn’t waste any time, muttering his name as a brief warning before placing his hand on her stomach. Immediately, his dark brown gaze widens and his jaw slackens in disbelief.

For a long moment, Clarke’s at the edge of tears, sensing a new, special kind of bond forming between Bellamy, her and their daughter who’s finally able to make her presence known to them. Once the two amazing minutes have passed, they sit in silence for a while because no words seem worthy to proceed what just happened. 

At last, however, Clarke remembers that he was about to tell her something. “What were you going to say before?”

Looking at her, Bellamy runs a hand through his hair, hesitating. Then, he replies, “At the ultrasound today… I guess it really hit me that I want to give her everything, you know? Not just a swing by this lake or a stuffed bunny. _Everything…_ But I know that I can’t.”

At his word, a piece of her heart breaks, but the rest of it remains intact and is not going to let him get away with feeling guilty again. Determined, Clarke gives his hand a light squeeze to catch his attention before she says, “Well, I’m happy because I know that my daughter will have an amazing father who builds her swings, tells her stories and tugs her in at night, who won’t let anything bad happen to her… Because having a father like that _is_ everything.”

For a minute, he simply stares at her, awestruck. Soon, countless of other emotions make their way into his eyes in the form of tears, and he pulls her in for a passionate kiss as they start to roll down his cheeks.

“Please don’t be so scared,” Clarke whispers against his parted lips, “She’ll adore you.”

Smiling softly while playing with some of the curls at the back of his head, she continues after a beat, her voice clear and certain, “We’ll give her the best that we can.” 

“And fight everyone who tries to prevent us from it.” 

“Damn right, we will…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments + kudos and I'll mail you an invisible kitten as a token of my appreciation :P (lmao don't pay attention to my weirdness)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been away for such a long time, I know! I feel terrible, but I needed to take some time to relax after my exams and then the idea for 'Never Say Never' refused to leave me alone until I wrote it. But here you go, finally :) This is a very important chapter, as it focuses on growth and the road to happiness. 
> 
> I hope you like it <3

By the time that Clarke is twenty-four weeks pregnant, the baby growing inside her is doing everything possible to make her presence known. While sitting by the edge of the lake, Clarke can’t seem to take her hands off her stomach, as the subtle vibrations that the kicks send through her is the most life-affirming sensation that she has ever felt; it has her heart beating faster, love blending with the blood in her veins as dreamlike images spring from the back of her mind: _them, a family of three in front of the cabin. Their daughter resting in Bellamy’s arms…_

A few months ago — before she became pregnant — Clarke would’ve never allowed herself to even imagine this kind of happiness. 

Right now, however, she really can’t help it.

As always, Clarke senses Bellamy behind her before he says anything, as he sits down and starts to rub her shoulders, which have become tense from the countless knots. The growing bump on her stomach has turned sleeping difficult, and lately she’s been lucky if she managed to drift off for a short minute.

Maybe that’s why he suggests, “We could go to the ocean for a week or two… Just to experience something different for a little while.”

No word in the world can describe how tempting that sounds, but Monty and Raven’s project has been keeping everyone — especially them — very busy. Well, at least it appears to be working in spite of the fact that the process is slow. They always knew it would be, because growing food in soil that has lived through a nuclear war takes a lot of patience and skill. 

Luckily, Raven has lots of skill and Monty has _lots_ of patience.

Sighing as the strain seeps from her neck under his thumbs, Clarke closes her eyes and tries to think of something that doesn’t threaten to make her mind explode. That becomes easier when Bellamy’s hands slide to her stomach, and Clarke’s pretty sure that their daughter feels it too, because she flips, kicking against the skin that’s covered by his large palms.

“She’s one smart girl,” Bellamy remarks, “Just like her mother.” 

At that, an easy smile tugs at the corners of Clarke’s mouth before she twists her neck a little to kiss him chastely. “I’m pretty sure that she gets the brain from you, and the nerve from me.”

In the end, it doesn’t seem like Bellamy can argue with that statement, since he simply pulls her up, his lips capturing hers passionately. Ever since he dared to tell her about his fear of not being a good father, Clarke has never let him think so again. In fact, she’s stated repeatedly that there’s no one in this world that she’d rather want as a parent for her child. If their daughter ends up with a heart that’s the same shape as his, this world will be a better place, a _kinder_ place.

When she dreams, it’s of a little girl with freckles, dark curly hair and a smile so bright that it could make the glorious Southern sun envious — it’s of love, peace and happiness that makes every ounce of pain they’ve endured worth it — and _he_ is everywhere. He is the key that keeps that dream in tact, even though she’s still terrified that it won’t last forever. 

Because _forever_ is another word that has never made sense in this world, but she wants nothing more than it, and she wants it with him. 

“Come on, Princess. Let’s go to the ocean. Our people will be fine without us. Also, Raven will probably show up at some point, so she can fill us in on how everything’s going.”

 _Princess…_ He hasn’t called her that in a while, and maybe it’s what reminds her that there’s a place that she’s wanted to return to for a long time. Managing a small smile, Clarke replies, “I’ll go to the ocean with you, but can we visit the dropship first?”

 

* * *

 

_\- With Bellamy -_

 

While Clarke’s busy packing a few bags for the trip, Bellamy sneaks off to find Abby, which proves to be a simple mission because Kane is almost always in the conference room, and Abby –– if she’s not at work –– is always with Kane. Obviously, they like to keep their relationship as much of a secret as possible, but Bellamy reckons that they might as well give up trying, because this is a relatively small camp and _everyone_ seems to know already. 

“Son,” Kane greets him as he steps into the room, his voice marked by surprise. 

For a second, Bellamy braces himself, battling nervousness before he looks at Abby who’s wearing the same facial expression as the man next to her. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s something I really need to ask you before I go to the ocean with Clarke… And you might find it old-fashioned, but I see it more as an act of respect.”

Because he’s not sure how to say the rest yet, Bellamy takes the silver ring out of his pocket and places it on the table that stands between them. “I found this in the last bunker we searched and I couldn’t leave it there. Not when I’m fortunate enough to have someone like Clarke in my life.” 

Frankly, Bellamy’s too nervous to meet Abby’s gaze, but glancing at her for a second, he finds her eyes wider yet still soft, which is what prompts him to add. “I don’t want you to see this as the beginning of something too extravagant for us to handle… I don’t want you to see this as anything but a symbol of how much I love your daughter, how blessed I feel to have her in my life, and how far I’d go to protect her, as well as our future child.”

Swallowing, Bellamy clenches his fists along his sides to prevent himself from trembling once he finally builds up the courage to look at Abby. The sight of the tears that have settled in her eyes nearly has him taking everything back, but then she smiles at him — a genuine, soft smile, and as if that isn’t enough to startle him, she does something even more unbelievable as she walks toward him and _embraces_ him for half a minute. 

When she draws back, Abby appears to have gathered herself a bit because she’s finally able to speak. “Bellamy, if there’s anyone I trust with my daughter’s heart, it’s _you._ More than once, Clarke has made it clear that she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, that she’d rather walk through hell a thousand times than lose you. I’ve seen how happy you make her, and as her mother I can’t ask for anything further.”

_Now, run off. Make her happier than she ever thought she’d be._

* * *

 

_\- With Clarke -_

 

Clarke hasn’t been at the dropship since that night she came here to beg Wells to protect Bellamy, and that’s something she’d rather not remember doing, even though it worked. When she thinks of that time, all there’s left in her memory are the tears streaming down her face and the sight of Bellamy’s blood on her hands. 

In the end, that’s why she wanted to come here again with him to be reminded of the good things that happened when they lived in this camp. Interlacing their fingers, Bellamy and Clarke walk across the now grass-covered ground, slowly reliving every single moment that’s carried by this atmosphere. It was here that many of their friends died, and the graves on which wildflowers have begun to bloom are a constant reminder of that. Nonetheless, it was also here that their relationship took a sharp turn from rivals to allies, forming a bond strong enough to sustain the most powerful storms and the most excruciating pain.

It was here that _they_ made the rules, that they realized how their combined strength was enough to carry the weight of the people they lost, of the never-ending fear of war and destruction. Willingly sharing that sort of burden with someone allowed them to see parts of your heart that you thought would remain hidden forever — it allows you to be vulnerable in front of them, to need and _love_ them in a way you never thought possible. That was happened to them here, and it felt strangely inevitable, like a force of nature. 

But on top of their inevitability, forces of nature can startle the entire world, make the ground shatter, and their relationship certainly wasn’t an exception to that.

“Our relationship has always been emotional.” Clarke says, “It just got worse and worse until we could barely handle it.” 

Nodding, Bellamy gives her hand a light squeeze, “Do you think that’s why we started sleeping together?”

Undoubtedly, it is. Him choosing to risk his life by going on missions was something she couldn’t bear — not only due to the thought of losing him, but also because the fact that he thought he was expendable was enough to make her heart break. She didn’t show up at his cabin that stormy night because she was desperate to make him stay, she didn’t want to coerce him into staying with her. No, she simply wanted him to know that he mattered.

But they were both angry, frustrated from all of the emotions that clearly dominated their relationship, which is why it didn’t turn out exactly how she wanted it to…

 

* * *

 

_\- Nine months earlier -_

 

Once she was standing by his doorstep, the ruthless rainstorm had her drenched despite the fact that she only had to walk half a mile to his cabin. Trying to calm herself down, Clarke inhaled the wet air around her, but the raging sky seemed to have ignited the frustration that had roamed in her veins all day, making it pulse through her body like electricity. She knew that she probably shouldn’t be there at this ungodly hour –– as a matter of fact, she didn’t even know exactly _why_ she was there. 

However, Clarke took a step forward and slammed the door open without bothering to knock, which was possibly a bad idea because her tough facial expression dropped once she laid eyes on Bellamy.

He was standing in the middle of the cabin, hands placed confidently on his hips as the dim light from the fireplace intensified his facial features. Gathering herself quickly, Clarke wondered whether he could see her through the door, because he seemed utterly unsurprised. After closing the door without taking her eyes off him, she stepped closer, unfazed by the shock waves that she sensed drive her forward from underneath the floorboards.

“If you’re here to pick a fight, Princess, you might as well save your breath.”

Licking her lips, Clarke felt the words stumble out of her mouth without permission. “That’s not why I’m here.”

At that, Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment, “Then why the hell are you?” 

Stepping even closer, Clarke made a conscious effort to mirror the confidence that radiated off of him and not give a damn as the space between them narrowed to an inch. Then she leaned forward, allowing her breath to ghost over his parted lips as she whispered, “Fuck me.” 

She was shocked at the amount of certainty in those two words because it felt like she was deliberately setting herself up for rejection by daring to say them. For a long, torturous minute, Bellamy didn’t say anything, even though his brown eyes darkened intensely as they looked into hers, but abruptly she sensed his large palms settle at the small of her back to pull her almost impossibly closer.

“As you wish,” he drawled and then bent his head down to suck at the sensitive pulse point below her jaw, perhaps wanting to give her a taste of exactly what she was in for, and as pleasure ceased through her unexpectedly, Clarke found herself rejecting all reason. For so long, she’d longed to feel relaxed and secure. In this moment — while locked in Bellamy’s arms, enchanted by the warmth of his lips against hers — she did. 

He said her name about a thousand times in a thousand different ways. She knew some of them, but not all. Maybe because she never thought that her name would emerge from his lips with a lustful edge. Still, the realization didn’t hit her before she was splayed on the furs that covered his bed, naked and slightly sweaty. _Everything was about to change, and she had no intention of stopping it._

During the minutes that it took them to undress, Clarke had felt the frustration within him causing his muscles to tense, his mouth to bruise hers. That was why it startled her when his lips suddenly turned gentle as he kissed her inner thigh. 

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” she heard herself say once his fingertips danced a trail across her knee.

“Clarke, I’m not going to hurt you just because you annoyed me today… I _am_ going to fuck you, though. I can promise you that.” 

Well, Bellamy Blake is always true to his word and that time was no exception, although he kept teasing her, testing her patience until she breathlessly begged him to push inside her. His thrusts were hard enough to make her grasp at the fragile headboard of his bed and pull noises from her throat that she didn’t know existed. More than anything, being with him made her relax, the strain seeping out of her easily, especially as he got her over the edge, but he didn’t let himself have the same relief. Therefore, she tried to give it to him by curling her hand around his hard length, yet it only caused him to snap at her. “Don’t, Clarke.” The forcefulness of those words stabbed at her heart, made it bleed, mostly because she noticed the distinctive edge of guilt that coated his voice in a form of pain that she’d never heard before. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Breathless, he simply echoed the words that she’d said earlier. “You don’t have to be nice to me.”

Obviously, she reacted the same way that he did to that. Not caring, Clarke ran her thumb along his shaft, causing his head to fall against her shoulder. “I’ll say it again. You don’t have to be nice to me, because I’m still leaving tomorrow.”

When Bellamy said that, the words colliding with the sensitive skin of her collarbone, Clarke understood that he thought she was here to make him stay at camp like she’d been trying to all day. Because she found herself unable to tell him that it wasn’t the case, Clarke simply kissed a trail along his shoulder and let her hand unravel him slowly.

“You can leave tonight. Then we’re even,” is what he said once he’d managed to catch his breath again — and she did. She put on her clothes on and left the cabin, ignoring the desire for cuddling that had settled in her bones, and once she stepped into the night again she never thought she’d be back there, but _fuck_ she was wrong.

She was _so_ wrong.

 

* * *

 

_\- Present day -_

 

It feels really bizarre to think about their first time now, because she can’t imagine his movements as rough anymore, can’t imagine letting him sleep alone or leaving him deprived of cuddles. They have come a long a way from how it started, and honestly they can thank the pregnancy for that. Carrying his child has brought her so much closer to him, to his heart, and now she knows that there’s no point in hiding or suppressing the love that she has for him. Even though she hasn’t yet been able to verbally express it, she finds a way to tell him in every second they spend together.

As they sit in the grass, surrounded by small blue wildflowers, their fingers are still interlaced perfectly. Their history might be long, complicated and far from painless, but through all of it, one thing has remained true: They’ve refused to let go off one another. It’s been simply impossible. 

“Remember when we hated each other’s guts?” Clarke asks as she nuzzles his neck.

“Ah, the good old days,” Bellamy muses, tugging her closer and they laugh together, because it feels incredibly unreal to be here. At the place where their partnership formed reluctantly, as they pretty much refused to understand one another. Now, three years later, they’ve returned and she’s pregnant with their daughter.

And Bellamy’s voice is marked by an emotion that she has never heard before when he says, “Time’s a funny thing… Back then I didn’t know that you would turn out to be the love of my life.” 

When he says that, her heart leaps and skips about ten beats afterward. It takes a minute to look at him, but once she does, she finds the smile on his face softly radiant in spite of the nervousness that lingers at its edges. For a split second, Clarke has to look down, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks, so frankly it’s a complete coincidence that she notices the ring in his hand: it’s made of silver, there’s a blue heart-shaped stone crowned in the middle and cradled by two open hands. It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry she has ever seen, which is why she can only blink at first.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Clarke.” 

This can’t be real. It _can’t._ How on Earth did all of her most wonderful dreams blend together to form this kind of perfect illusion? Honestly, that’s the only explanation, because there’s simply no way that this cruel world would allow Bellamy Blake to propose to her, would allow her this kind of happiness. To wake herself up, Clarke kisses him, but when she draws back, she’s still there and he’s in front of her with no intention of disappearing.

In fact, he continues, “So with our daughter and the stars as my witnesses, I’m asking you to marry me. Would you be willing to do that?” At the end, he actually manages to grin in a way that makes him appear entirely worriless. Of course, he has no reason to be, either. 

“There’s nothing in the world I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you and our daughter. We’ll be so _happy_. I’m sure of it.” 

When she finally says that, it’s as if the sun begins to shine, which is impossible because it’s definitely past midnight, but the billion stars above them seem to twinkle at the same time, coloring the dark blue sky in bright bliss as Bellamy slips the ring onto her finger, so that the tip of the heart-shaped stone is turned toward her fingertip.

They kiss for a minute, but once the euphoria has settled in their bloodstream, seeming more natural, Bellamy is able to speak again. “I found the ring in the last bunker we searched and recognized the design immediately. It’s a Claddagh ring. My mother had Irish roots and a ring like that. She told me all about its symbolism because I was curious. The heart represents love, the hands represent friendship and the crown represents loyalty. I thought it was too perfect to leave behind. It even matches your eyes.”

It _does,_ and she can’t believe that he thought of that. Then again, they spend a lot of time looking into each other’s eyes when they lie in bed at night. By now, she has the thousand shades of brown in his gaze neatly mapped, coordinated from lightest to darkest.

Admiring the ring on her finger, Clarke can’t help but think that the silver ­­— which is wound in a way that makes it look a little like a branch — symbolizes their journey together, which has been twisted but made room for some beauty in spite of everything. 

“I wonder what my mother’s going to say.” 

“Clarke, your mom _wanted_ us to marry.” 

At those words, she understands and it makes her smile grow wider. Of course Bellamy would ask for permission, because he’s too selfless to not care about it. Also, she’s able to figure out that he didn’t thoroughly plan the proposal aside from that, as it wasn’t his idea to go to the dropship, but he knew that he wanted to do it, and that matters a great deal more than anything else.

“I can’t stop imagining everyone’s reactions when they find out.”

“Murphy and Raven will roll their eyes in unison. Jasper will throw a party.”

“Oh yeah, and Miller will insist to be your Best Man.” 

Bellamy chuckles, kissing her forehead. “If we agree to have a ceremony.” 

Maybe it would be nicer to exchange vows in a non-formal setting, as it would be more intimate, more suitable for _them._ In the end, however, Bellamy and Clarke realize that their friends — as well as Kane and Abby — will definitely kill them if they aren’t allowed to witness the wedding. Most likely, it wouldn’t feel right if their _family_ wasn’t there to share everything with them. After all, they’ve shared all of the horrible experiences.  _Why shouldn’t they enjoy the happy ones together, too?_

“We can still keep it non-extravagant, though. I’ll tell Jasper and Monty to keep the batches of moonshine to a minimum.” 

Smiling, Clarke makes a final demand. “I want our daughter to witness it, too, no matter how young she is.”

Agreeing on that thought, Bellamy and Clarke decide not to rush. Is there any need for that anymore, honestly? For years, they have let their fear of death and loss control how they lived their lives, but suddenly, looking at the ring and then at him, Clarke realizes that it no longer feels worth it. 

“Screw fear. We’re telling our own damn story.”

Then she kisses him, and Bellamy lets the blue wildflowers that he’d held in his hands tangle with her hair as he deepens the kiss, his mouth certain but still soft against hers. In this moment, happiness has seeped into every single vein of their bodies, made them invincible. 

Feeling nothing short of _fearless_ despite the tears that linger at the corners of her eyes, Clarke finally murmurs, “I love you, Bellamy,” against his parted lips.

“I love you too, Clarke. I love you so much.” 

And that feels like the start of a dream — a dream that’s possible _and_ everlasting… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's engagement ring (although hers is probably more worn because of the apocalypse and shit): 
> 
> https://cdn2.bigcommerce.com/server1500/84a34/images/stencil/500x659/products/468/1564/IMG_0067-skyWH__11118.1322610103.jpg?c=2


	13. A Letter from The Author

  
Hello fanfic readers,

As you can probably tell from my many months of not updating this story, I have hit a dead end. After posting the two latest chapters a long time ago, I started to recognize a drop of interest, as I received very few comments and kudos. Honestly, it was discouraging considering the amount of effort that I'd put into it. Writing takes time, it takes planning, and when people don't seem excited about it and there's no one who's willing to encourage you to keep going, it can become quite draining to work on something. So as much as I wanted to continue, it was difficult. More difficult than I thought, and it was like my inspiration had fallen into a deep pit and I couldn't retrieve it. 

I know that a lot of people enjoyed reading this story, and I loved writing it, but I think it's time to let it come to a conclusion. So here's what I'm proposing: if enough people comment that they want a long epilogue that will (hopefully) tie all of the loose ends of this fanfic together, then I promise I will write one and post it as soon as possible. I just think that that's what this story truly needs — a good ending, so it won't drag on for forever. 

I guess all there's left to say is,  _I'm so sorry..._

 

_// Josefine_


	14. Epilogue

_5 years later_

The night of their daughter’s birth was the starriest ever seen on Earth, and entire constellations fell into the waves of Clarke’s hair as she pushed, worrying too much about the baby she’d been carrying for nine months to mind the pain shooting up her spine like lightning. Beside her — like always — Bellamy held her hand, helping her cling to her last, crucial strength. When they heard the first cry, it didn’t rip through the silence; it bounced off the walls and echoed beautifully like violin strings in the room, and the relief that surged through them both as it emerged was astounding… 

… So much that it brought them to tears. Ones that didn’t stop until they almost started a flood, and when her daughter was placed in her arms for the first time, a sob tore through Clarke’s chest. At the sound, Bellamy placed his fingers under her chin and a lingering kiss on her lips as the tears on their cheeks blended with one another.

“What’s her name?” It was Abby who asked first, since Jason was still standing in awe at the other side of the room, trying to comprehend the miracle that he had just witnessed.

 _Jiera Astraea._ Bellamy added the middle name because of the stars, maybe to thank them. With all of the horrors that he’d seen throughout the years, he found it difficult to believe in a god, but the stars had never left his side. They’d always been there to comfort him during the darkest nights on the Ark when he couldn’t sleep from worrying about his sister — and nine months earlier they’d guided Clarke to his tent over and over.

The next morning as the first rays of sunshine pulled him out of sleep, the room was painted in a mesmerizing pink and orange light, and two feet away the soft words of a made-up lullaby were falling off Clarke’s lips.

 

_“The stars will put you to rest at night_

_And I’ll sing this song for you_

_Keep you in my arms ‘til_

_The sun wakes up.”_

During the next five years, the greatest joy of Clarke’s heart was watching her daughter grow up to become a spitting image of her father: the light shines through their dark brown eyes in the same way, she too has constellations covering her cheeks during the warmest season, and her skin tone is more golden than ivory. Also, there is her thick, curly hair that Bellamy braids every morning because it’s already very long (When Raven and Luna got married, Harper weaved wildflowers into it for the occasion. Then, she still didn’t talk much but she knew enough to exclaim, “Ray and Lu-Lu!” while clapping at the end of the ceremony.)

At her parents’ wedding a year after that, Jiera was old enough to be a flower girl and a smiling witness to their happiness.

_“Clarke… When I first met you, I called you ‘Princess’ out of spite, because I could not see beyond the classist system of the Ark and how you seemed to represent everything that I despised about it, but looking at you now, I just… I can’t believe my younger self yet cannot blame him for not foreseeing this. Who would’ve thought that we’d join forces? Who would’ve thought that you’d carry our child? That we would cross battlefields and fight wars to return to each other? Believe me, if I had known that then, I would’ve called you a queen. Because that’s exactly what you are and have always been. No word in existence could possibly describe how much I love and admire you — and I am eternally grateful that I — in a few minutes — will be able to call you my wife.”_

_“Oh, Bellamy… I can’t— You’re my home. My family. The final destination of all my travels — your arms are my safe haven amongst the chaos that Earth has thrown us into. Whenever I’ve wandered too far from where I belong, you’ve been a constant, a place to land, somewhere to seek refuge, and looking into your eyes has become as soothing as my childhood lullabies… Do you know what my favorite thing about us is? We’ve loved each other through absolutely everything. We’ve never given up on each other or what we share, and that we’re standing here today is the greatest proof of it. I’ll love you until the end of time.”_

The ceremony was held on a stunning summer’s eve two years ago in the grass fields outside of Arkadia as fireflies danced around the lanterns in the trees and stars peeked through on the clouded sky. Lack of material meant that Clarke didn’t have a dress to wear, but Adelaide braided violets into her hair before the wedding as her son played with Jiera a few feet away. 

“Promise me that we’ll keep visiting each other,” Clarke had said then, admiring the happy kids. As tough as her pregnancy had been, Adelaide was the one person who truly understood what it was like. Now, five years later, her and Bellamy are by the seaside with Luna’s clan at least nine times a year, because it always manages to bring some peace back into their life.

The life that they now share, staying in the old cabin, which has been extended slightly, so that their daughter could have her own room. Every night lying in the same bed as Bellamy brings back a thousand memories, and this time is no exception.

“Why are you getting teary on me right now?” He grins, folding his hand around hers and bringing it to his chest. Then he lets his lips descend to her forehead.

“… I’m thinking about the first time you told me I was beautiful.” 

The word just sort of slipped out between a thrust and a moan, and it’s quite possible that neither of them even registered it at first, but words like that always leave aftershocks — they cling on to the air around you, the moments that come after, turning the silence heavy with emotion. She remembers his body anchoring hers as she asked him to repeat it. It seemed like a strange request at the time, as they’d been sleeping together for two months and they weren’t supposed to want anything more than that. They weren’t supposed to _ask_ for more. 

Still, he obeyed, breathing the word into her mouth while he rolled his hips again: _‘beautiful’_ and then against her shoulder, her breast, her neck, her inner thigh until it started morphed into a vulnerable murmur on the most sensitive patches of her body.

“It’s true,” Bellamy whispers, smiling a little as he brings her fingertips to his lips. And she _knows_ that he feels that way, because now he makes a big deal out of telling Miller how beautiful _his wife_ looks every morning when she kisses him goodbye at the gate before his shift. 

With Jiera, their life has taken a more peaceful turn — of course, they haven’t completely distanced themselves from politics, but it’s not their biggest concern anymore. For the past five years, taking care of their family unit has been the top priority, and their daughter’s needs come first. _Always…_

The sound of the creaking floor is rather familiar by now, and they know what the source of it is before Jiera’s small voice breaks through the darkness, “I can’t sleep, momma,” with that, she presses her hand onto Clarke’s shoulder, playing a little with the strands of hair.

“Baby, you… Okay—“ Before continuing, Clarke’s shares a look with her husband who smiles tiredly but nods nonetheless. “You can have _one_ more story, and then it’s nighttime, Jie.”

At that, Bellamy sits up, lifting his daughter onto the bed, so that she can cuddle up against his side as he tells her a story about a female emperor that he made up. Frankly, Bellamy is a _great_ storyteller and would’ve undoubtedly made a good author had he lived before the nuclear war. Listening intently, Jiera puts her small hand on his chest, trying to stay awake until the ending, but she drifts off to sleep after about ten minutes.

“You’re the most amazing father. Have I ever told you that?” Clarke says as soon as he returns after putting Jiera to bed. 

“You tell me every day.” 

Well, it’s _true._ Jiera absolutely adores him, his stories and piggyback rides. He teaches her about astronomy, history and languages while Clarke makes sure that she has art classes, too. Unsurprisingly, the amazing Raven Reyes is teaching her math and Monty is in charge of physics (yeah, she’s only five, but she’s interested in _making things go ‘boom’)._ Twice a month, Luna takes Jiera for a biology lesson, teaching her about the different plants, flowers, animals etc.

They’ve formed a team of teachers for her, even though it’s quite unofficial and all of their friends do it simply because they love spending time with Jiera — she’s Arkadia’s little ray of sunshine. 

When Bellamy lays down, Clarke brings her face to his, kissing him passionately. “I’m so glad it’s you. I love you so much,” Pulling back, she notices that his eyes are filled with tears despite the dim light, but at least he’s smiling.

“And I love you.” 

Playing with the dark curls at the back of his head, Clarke glances at the drawing in the wooden frame that sits on her nightstand: it’s her favorite one she’s ever done, of Bellamy sitting in the grass with their five-month-old daughter in his lap. It’s her favorite one, because she doesn’t ever want to forget the sheer bliss that shone from his entire facial expression in that moment. She just had to capture it. 

“Oh, parenting… I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep,” she sighs. 

“Yeah, me neither. Wanna cuddle instead?”

That’s their regular conversation at night. Since having Jiera, they don’t sleep as much and their sex life has gone a little downhill, but they both know that that’s pretty normal. Nevertheless, it’s upsetting, especially the sex part for some reason. “You ever think about how much the activities in this bed have changed in the past five years?”

“Babe, it’s because we have a kid next door,” Bellamy murmurs, yet it’s clear that he feels the same way as she does. It’s not that their relationship ever revolved around sex, but it was a fundamental part of it, because it was something that allowed them to connect in a unique way. Now they have Jiera to take care of, and they connect through that. However, it’s clearly not the same…

“I know, but…”

“I feel it, too. We’ll figure it out.” 

Clarke rolls her eyes, hoping that he can see it. “Bellamy, we’re talking about sex. It’s not rocket science. Even though we have a kid.”

At that, he raises his eyebrows, and for a moment she thinks that he’s going to leave it at that, but then he lets his hand travel down her stomach before slipping beneath past the band of her panties, which has her gasping in half pleasure, half surprise. “Think you can stay quiet?” 

She nods hurriedly, rubbing her thighs together in anticipation. Pulling her closer, Bellamy breathes an incoherent word onto her neck and dips two fingers inside her. Instantly, her whole body trembles with a desire so strong that she has to bite his shoulder to keep from crying out. Leaning her head against him, Clarke lets the quiet noises that emerge from her throat be absorbed by his bronze skin, and he caresses the back of her head. 

“Good girl…”

 _Damn,_ she suddenly feels like she’s twenty years old again, being fucked until the bed threatened to break. Back then, before they started making love, he used to praise her for the sounds that she made, pull at her hair and suck marks onto her body. She’d almost forgotten how good it was. Cursing into his mouth, Clarke pulls at the fabric of his blue Henley, hates it for standing in her way when she wants nothing more than touch his bare, muscled back. 

He has a beard now as well, and even though it looks very sexy, she has never thought it hotter than right now, as he chooses to go down on her and the slightly coarse facial hair touches her sensitive skin. At one point, her eyes water from the building pleasure that she can’t release in form of a scream, which has Bellamy taking pity on her. “I’m sorry that you have to be quiet, babe.” 

“I’m all good. Don’t worry… It’s— _Oh my._ ” 

“Sssh, Clarke.” 

At that, she flippantly kicks him in the shin. “Mood killer,” the annoyance in her response is mostly pretend, so he sees through it easily, winking at her. “At least you’re not off your game.” 

That makes him chuckle against her inner thigh. “I’m happy to hear it.”

 

***

During the last couple of years, Clarke has grown even closer to Raven since she’s been taking such good care of Jiera — honestly, she’s been like an aunt to her, but that doesn’t mean their friendship has been reduced to that. When Clarke enters the mechanic bay the next morning to ask about the growth of the potato plants, her friend bluntly says, ”You look happy today. Did you get laid last night?”

Feeling a rush of heat shoot to her cheeks, Clarke leans against the table. “I might have…” She admits, resisting a smirk. It’s not that her and Bellamy’s marriage is _sexless,_ but it’s been so different, so terribly discreet for the past five years. Exhaling, she explains everything to Raven, “I feel so old, and I’m only twenty-four. Maybe that’s one of the side effects of being a mom, and you know that I wouldn’t trade Jiera for the world, but I just miss it, you know? I fucking miss sex.” 

At that, Raven chuckles a little before offering, “I can always take her for a while. In fact, if you and Bellamy need to have a sex-cation by the sea or something, I’m pretty sure the whole camp would be happy to look after Jie while you’re gone.”

“Really?” 

Raven smiles, touching her friend’s shoulders. “You and Bellamy love your daughter, Clarke. Everyone knows this, and you take good care of her, but you love each other too, and you must take care of your relationship as well. Your marriage…”

_Even if you have to take a few days off and leave your daughter with your trusted friends…_

 

That’s why, the next day, Bellamy and Clarke drive off in the rover at sunrise, heading towards the ocean. By now, they have their own tent set up by the beach about half a mile from Adelaide’s. On these trips, they usually bring Jiera, so that she can play with the other kids, but this time it’s just the two of them again.

“You nervous?” She asks, even though it’s unnecessary, because she can sense it by the unsteady rhythm that his fingers drum on top of the steering wheel. For a second, he glances at her, managing a smile, and she can tell that he’s battling the habit of running a hand through his hair.

“It’s our first trip without Jiera in five years. I have to get out of parenting-mode, and that one has been pretty automatic for a while.”

Yeah, it has. It’s part of being a parent, always putting your kid first, always thinking about them, valuing their safety above anything else, but Raven’s right — it’s not the only thing that matters. To change the atmosphere, Clarke chooses the song _‘So Alive’_ on Maya’s old Ipod. Seconds later the melody of the song absorbs the nervous energy in the rover instantly.

 

_You can make it on a wish if you want to…_

 

As it turns out, that’s exactly what they did. During the nine months of her pregnancy, both of them were worried sick for their baby’s health and safety, but they wished for nothing more than her survival on every single shooting star that they saw. And they made it. _Jiera_ made it, which is truly a miracle — something that Clarke didn’t dare to believe in at the time. Still, a lot can change in five years, and as of late, hope has colored the horizon every day.

 

The sky is pink, purple and soft orange, which reflects on the sheer, white fabric of their tent and creates a beautiful glow on Bellamy’s skin. They haven’t left their little bubble since they arrived eight hours ago, having emerged themselves in a wonderful world of sex and cuddling. Honestly, it doesn’t even feel real that they’re able to do something like this again, which sounds sad, but the fact that they don’t have the opportunity often just makes this day seem much more glorious.

“I should draw you in this light with the new coloring pencils that you gave me.” 

He smiles, which forms adorable crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You would think that they’d make him appear older, but they simply steal her breath, as she’s reminded of the masterpiece that he really is. “Nah, it can wait,” is what she replies, leaning in to kiss him — a soft and lingering touch just like it used to be back in the day.

Suddenly, Bellamy turns the atmosphere more emotional, because he says, “You’ve been sad lately. I hate that,” with the words, he gently moves a strand of hair out of her face, which has her eyes fluttering shut. “Clarke, listen to me… I’ll always be here for you.”

Without permission, a tear escapes the corner of her eye, but Bellamy catches it with the pad of his thumb as it reaches her cheekbone. It hurts that she doesn’t really understand what she’s feeling, and she has no idea how to put it into words, so in the end she tells him the same thing that she told Raven. “I feel old…”

“Like there’s a constant strain in your body that makes it more difficult to enjoy life? That’s called being married with a kid, babe. You’re not old.” 

His statement actually startles her. “Being married to you is _not_ a burden, Bellamy. I love you. I love our daughter. Please don’t think that—“ Just when she’s about to freak out, he holds her closer, sealing her lips shut with a kiss. Deepening it, he buries his hand in her hair, smiling a little against her mouth, which is reassuring. After a minute, they part, and the brief silence that follows is filled with loving stares before he breaks it. 

“I know you love me. I know you love Jiera, but you can’t control the way that your body reacts to the pressure, Clarke. Maintaining a family is a huge responsibility, and we haven’t been very good at relieving the stress lately. That’s why we’re here.” 

 _God, she adores him._ It seems as if he has a sixth sense that tells him when and how to reassure or comfort her — maybe it’s been carefully weaved into his DNA over the many years of partnership that they’ve shared. In the end, that’s what he’ll always be: _her partner_ , her confidant, her friend, her rock in the middle of a hazardous ocean. 

“You’re right.”

 

They don’t fall asleep that night. Instead, they wander into the waves, enjoying the sensation of the cool water against their skin. When you’re used to being on a constant overload from running a camp and taking care of a young girl, it’s almost as if the tension starts to live within your body and make a comfortable home out of it. However, the minute you begin to actually relax, it becomes so clear that the painful exhaustion is not meant to be there — It’s not natural or healthy. 

Cradling her face, Bellamy kisses her softly, tasting the saltwater on her lips. Every time they hold hands, she becomes even more aware of the ring on her finger, of the happiness that it has brought her when she thought it least possible. No war, no battle or scar could smear the blissfulness that marrying Bellamy has brought to her life.

“Bellamy?”

“Yeah?” 

At the word, she hugs him, inhaling the scent of the waves from his skin and letting herself drown a little in his warmth before whispering, “Spending my life with you will be the easiest thing I’ll ever have to do.” 

Although he doesn’t say anything in response, she can hear how he chokes up. Then he places a lingering kiss to the top of her head, running his palm along her spine. The time that she has shared with him already feels like an eternity, but that’s because he’s imprinted on her soul over the years, made his way into the cells in her body that remind her that she’s alive. Even after all of this: the chaos, the peace, the worry, she still has him. His arms are the harbor that she’s always been able to return to. She carried his child for nine months, loved him through the sickening anxiety, the headaches and every goddamn nightmare, because that’s what they do.

It will always be that way. 

In twenty years, Bellamy Blake will look at Clarke Griffin, his wife, and he will tell her that she’s never been more beautiful, that her eyes have never been bluer. Despite the wrinkles that are forming on her skin, she still looks young, smiling at him and laughing every time he cracks a cheesy joke or makes a horrible attempt at flirting with her over dinner. Their daughter will have grown to be the age that Clarke is right now, and they will not be able to be prouder of her, of the person that she has turned out to be: strong-willed, artistic, sarcastic — A perfect mix of then both…

“You have know idea how much I love you, Princess,” he replies at last. 

“I think I do. You’ve told me a million times.”

He’s compared her to the stars and the moon; he’s held her while she cried and kissed every single inch of her body until his love seemed like soft velvet draped over her. Something very precious…

“Maybe. It makes no difference, though. I’ll just tell you a million more.” 

Clarke doesn’t remember falling asleep that night — just him carrying her to their tent and them looking into each other’s eyes until the passage of time didn’t seem relevant anymore, because the years fall away, the days fade with the perfect realization that their love for each other will bind everything together.

It makes everything worthwhile...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to say <3 But I almost became teary while I wrote the last passage of this story. Bringing this idea to life has been so much fun, and the amazing response that it has received from all of you is more than what I could've hoped for. So thank you to all of you who have taken the time to read this story, to leave kudos and write amazing comments to encourage me to continue. Unfortunately, this fic has reached its final destination. I'm just happy that you've been here all along. 
> 
> \- Josefine


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